Aborted Imaginations (1):
Back to the beginning,
Let's remember what's real and what's not.
I'm standing in the rain,
Pouring till it's skinning,
Skin right off my back.
And I'm telling you go,
Begging you to stay,
Wondering when your words will make me feel okay,
How can I trust you,
When you're hidden behind walls?
You want keys,
You claim my heart,
But you're not ready for the start,
Of something new.
So step back,
Take a break,
Beasue there's a list of things I just can't take.
I'm supposed to be your friend before anything else,
But you can't even talk when things come crashing.
I'm staring into the bottom of a glass.
Trying hard not to let these feelings seep through
I'm the hypocrite,
Living like a decrepit,
Because I'm just so tired of years of tears,
Steeped in my fears,
Soaked till I'm completely worn
How many fingers do I have up?
Because that's the number of lives that I have left.