Tonight, I'll climb out a window and into your car. Lock the doors, hit the gas, and don't stop till the sun comes up. Tonight, take me for all I'm worth. Go ahead, it isn't much anymore. And you've already overestimated my value by far, making me woner what you know.
I've placed in you a wound so deep you cannot feel it, for it does not breach the surface. I feed it with alter egos and lies and my over-historic mindset. A heart is uselss beyond distributing blood, keeping you alive. Sometimes I don't buy it. I can't always believe you. Because it breaks me to feel alright when you hold me. I sometimes feel your heart race, though I don't think I would ever tell you. I'm more than done with being shot down by a boy for feeling okay, for being alright. And I'd rather you didn't try to keep me from the acceleration, but I know it strikes a nerve in you, and you never let it get far.
Sometimes you pull up the things that took all I had to drown out, and you give them breathe, and new life. And it puts me to faking a smile for the way you feel when you see my eyes get sad. They forever ask you if you'd like a glass of water, And now if I were to have here every amount I ever turned down, I could drown out the world and your voice. Even the trains and the boys racing down on the boulevard in the middle of the night.
I am not one with the Bucchantes, as much as I might have felt so in the past. I am often too far from my own twice- born Dionysos, who has not always been wholly there as of now. But Artemis came and set me free from everything I held myself too.
I've stayed up all night coming up with a strategy for giving my message. But now I've found myself with an ending written into Canada, and I start the getaway over. We'll reroute, I'll drop all associates and go it alone. I always figured on it. Just not quite like this. The initial decision came at the age of fourteen.
The maps were drawn years ago. And I feel that if I go through with this, and run, I will never get to our own northern border. I can't do this and make it. But they will never forget the ones they left behind on the day I tear them down. I'm not crazy. I'm not sick. But when beautiful girls are gone, their hearts will be found. And when without a word I take them away, the aimed muzzle will say everything.
Don't be scared, Don't be afraid. I'm just a girl with a couple of rounds, a smpathetic expression I swear is not fake.
I can take away loneliness from a girl and give it all away. You will never know what it's like. So keep pretending that you'd give anything to be her. Those eyes are deep as hell for a reason. I know she's back there somewhere.
I hold up the gun, she is all alone with me, caught in the hall and nowhere to run. Staring through glazed teary eyes, maybe not really surprised but in shock all the same. A .22 will rattle your brain to ruin, don't you fret. But lost in her eyes I cannot pressure the trigger. And her questions are pathetic and cliche, her begging motivated. Bloodshot eyes empty as far as hate is concerned, but full of fear.
And I realize I can't do a thing.
Please help me, I don't want to end this starting with ending your life and my life and lives of beautiful girls in numbers. Come with me, I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Her reply has hesitation, unsure if her life depended on her weighted answer.
I showed my girl the world today. And she took a bullet.
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<-- that makes me a little happy though because blinks. Little things make me happy now, I guess it's because I am pathetically looking for happiness anywhere just so I don't feel like everything is falling apart.