i cant decide whats more depressing- the fact that i wrote my best poetry when i was on the brink of suicide... or now that im content- i cant seem to write anything at all... i mean sure its great i dont think about killing myself so i dont have to go through the misery of waking up in the morning, knowing that today is going to be as suckish as the last, but writing was an outlet for all the emotions and thoughts i was thinking... now im just blocked... |
Don't you know?
I laugh to cover up the pain...
Don't get mad or hate me because I've learned to...
"you should have laughed instead of cried...
They say its my fault,
that i feel this way...
This pain i feel
this pain i long for...
Drops of blood
Drops of diamond...
Sometimes i wonder what it would have been like if i hadnt moved from that town.. would we still be friends? more than friends? or would we have just drifted apart? sometimes i wonder... && sometimes.. i miss you.. |
(sung to im a little teapot) |
Dont look at me with those judging eyes |