Everything I do just seems to leave me a little more broken. Maybe thats because I was never whole to began with.

Oh how many times you said you loved me. Then I found out it was all a lie. Then after we called it quits and you had a while to think. You decided you really did love me. You can tell me that all you want but my heart won't let me believe you.

You see in all your little lies there is one big truth. But I gave up looking for it when I found out I was only one of your lies.

You see the thing about inspiration is you can't find it, you have to let it find you.

It doesn't matter how many hearts you have, because none of them count if just ONE is broken.

I have a bad habit of wanting things to be the way they once where.

Lies, Lies, and more lies. So when I riped that letter in half I realized two things. The first rip is always the hardest, and as I sat there riping that letter up I never wanted to stop. The second thing I realized is paper can only rip so much.

Theres a not so magical land just out of reach from the rest of the world. In it the predictable is the unpredicatable, and noone has the ability to love. "Oh, what's it's name," you ask? ....MY HEART.

You know today I decided to go through all your old things. Because heaven knows you would leave them to hurt me. And it was when I saw that poem that you had wrote but never givin me, that I realized I was wrong.

Here I go pretending that I could care less. Saying that I don't love you anymore, but I know you can see right threw to my heart, it's a mirror reflecting you.