I feel so desperate and lost.It's like this place is just a cardboard box.I feel weak and ill.Please just give me some sort of pill.I crave a release from this worldThis bodyThis mind.I am desperate.
My head is so empty, but somehowit's still so full.It's filled with thoughts of nothing.But it's also filled with thoughts of everythingEvery thought comes all at once.I try to move on but these thoughts make it so hard.Hard for me to leave the past in the past.Hard for me to forget all the nasty things you did to me that night.Makes it hard for me to breathe without even just thinking you're there to stop me.In a way it's so poetic. How you're gone but yet still somehow have a say in every thought I have, every breathe I take, and every person I love.
I sit there with an expression,The expression that is not only plastered onto my face but the one that is also plastered onto my emotions.BANKAll I feel is nothing.I thought I was getting better,Well actually I guess in a way I am...
Follow a shadow, it still flies you;Seem to fly it, it will pursue:So court a mistress, she denies you;Let her alone, she will court you.Say, are not women truly thenStyled but the shadows of us men?At morn and even shades are longest,At noon they are or short or none;So men at weakest, they are strongest,But grant us perfect, they're not known.Say, are not women truly thenStyled but the shadows of us men?
Blessed be Thou for all the joyMy soul has felt today!O let its memory stay with meAnd never pass away!I was alone, for those I lovedWere far away from me,The sun shone on the withered grass,The wind blew fresh and free.Was it the smile of early springThat made my bosom glow?'Twas sweet, but neither sun nor windCould raise my spirit so.Was it some feeling of delight,All vague and undefined?No, 'twas a rapture deep and strong,Expanding in the mind!
His bridle hung around the post.The sun and the leaves made spots come down;I looked close at him through the fence;The post was drab and he was brown.His nose was long and hard and still,And on his lip were specks like chalk.But once he opened up his eyes,And he began to talk.He didn't talk out with his mouth;He didn't talk with words or noise.The talk was there along his nose;It seemed and then it was.He said the day was hot and slow,And he said he didn't like the flies;They made him have to shake his skin,And they got drowned in his eyes.