My reflection through the glass just makes me walk pass,

No matter what I see it will never be worthy to me.

I can't stand the sight that makes my stomach tight,

I bite my lips and my eyes are teared up bright.

I fear that I no longer want to be here.

Why should I? When all I ever do is give up and sigh.

So please light, take me up high,

Up above the sky to a place w...

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And why are you still in my head? 

In my chest,

In my soul?

Engulfed by disdain, disgust and love.

And I am so lone.

In the middle of Oxford Street crowds

I want your advice that never helped

I want your forehead kisses that I rejected.

Longing for you on dark silent nights.

To debate: am I ever truly alone?

Or does your phantomlike presence ignite and guide...

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The phantom of the past is a memory of the day that were loat in flame of understanding an love an grief 

the phantom of the past is a shadow the haunt you from the memory you never let go of 

the phantom of the past is a poison of the few an many thing that are hard to swallow 

the phantom of the past is a keeper of learning through the ashe of mistake an power of it hold you to 

the ...

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You're a steady stream of bad choices waiting to happen.

The eye of the storm, or the calm before it?
What's the difference?
It's going to ruin you anyway.
You're a constant trickle of water, wanting to make noise but too scared to do it.
Because you're a puppet controlled by strings.
Water controlled by the trap.

I wish my life was like a game show where you press the buzzer and you're...

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