|I am literally using this just to even out the two sides of my page.|
Dearest DearDearest Dear,Dearest Dear by RosesFM
I feel this is something I ought to get off my chest.
You've started to become...
How can I put this?
Someone I cannot tolerate?
It's harder than you'd think to put these words to paper.
I've become so far accustomed to writing other people thoughts
I think I'm beginning to lose the ability to write my own.
It's really quite tragic.
But that's not the point.
The point is that...
That I think I've forgotten why I loved you,
And I can't really decide if I'm that sad about it.
It's like you're a phase I'm finally over.
It's odd that I don't feel more in this position,
Everyone says they saw it coming anyway,
I think I'm only hurt because it was so obvious from the start.
Now love, I doubt you'll cry for this.
But at the very least,
I hope you know,
Neither will I.
WiresNo dear,Wires by RosesFM
No you don't have a problem with change.
What you have is far, far worse.
You have a problem with those wires in your head.
They're all knotted up,
Stretched and tied tight,
Pulling so hard they're tearing and breaking.
Each move you make,
Everything you do,
It's just making them worse,
And worse, and worse, and worse...
Until you snap,
The circuits are broken,
And bits of you shut off;
Yet when those wires touch again,
You're back to normal.
You say you have a problem with change.
I say you're wired wrong.
YouLong nights and late mornings,You by RosesFM
The chill of the breeze on a sunny day,
Overcooked breakfast and sickly sweet muffins,
In a crisp glass cafe on the street,
These are what remind me of you.
Being up late on the phone begging you to survive,
Then the icy cold wind in the middle of the night,
Burning alcohol, sweet tobacco and stale pizza,
Sat on the street corner for the world to see,
These are what haunt me at night.
UntitledYou wake up and smile because you’re in so much pain,Untitled by RosesFM
So get up and throw on the mask, hide your disease once again.
You say you want to be better, but you love to be ill,
Your life’s become a toss-up between the blade and the pill.
I heard you threatened it again, said you’d do it, you swear.
As if this life full of hate, is just too much for you to bear.
But one thing for you to remember, is us stood right here,
The people that love you, you pushed away with your fear.
It’s hard to really help you, when you say that it’s fine,
As if a man in the desert could say the sun doesn’t shine.
Just please do remember, that every word that I say,
Is meant to help you, in some sick, messed up way.