If you play with fire, you will get burned.
It happened to us once, it'll happen again.
The story is written in tears, forget a ******* pen.
My middle name has ruined me, taken all I've known
My life, my world, my queen and my thrown.
Forever cursed a prince, in a kingdom once mine.
Emotions, tears and nights alone wasting time.
I won't let this make me second best.
Forever failing the ultimate test.
Why can't it be me? I have so much to offer?
Why can't it be me? I have so much to give?
Why can't it be me? Its a reason to live?
Why can't it be me? It was rightfully mine.
The most dangerous man, one with nothing left to lose.
The most dangerous man, one with nothing left to do.

I ask myself questions, will you give me the answers?
You're the only one that can save me with second chances.
Credit is due where credit is due.
I'm so undeserving and alone, I wish I had a clue.
I should of given up, i should of given in.
I stayed strong for too long and now I won't break.
I am what I am, but I'm not what I see.
A million tiny pieces on the floor is what I want to be.
OCHNCP That's all I was that's all you'll see.
And so a broken child is all that's left of me.

Undecided I am
As to whether or not obsessing over you is wrong
I may never know
If it must be wrong, then I only wrong myself
For I am addicted to you,
and it is not long before i feel the withdrawal
Of your poisonous beauty
Far more potent than any substance
Far more desirable than any liquor

Thirsty for you I am
As to whether or not the thirst is quenchable
I may never know
If it must go unquenched, I will surly die of thirst
For I have had a dose of you,
and so your poison will remain in my heart
Until it gives way
After my hit of you I desire no other
After my fix of you I need another

I can not be rehabilitated
Or cured thanks to you
So i must adjust,
and aspirations must be met
I'll start off small,
and see if you've noticed me yet

Conclusion or delusion
I wonder in my state of euphoria
I think obsessing over you is right for me
Having learnt to embrace this love sickness you have brought unto me
This feeling is human,
so I must be too
Well a man has needs,
and what I need is you

I'm stressed, I'm angry,
They don't understand,
The rage that burns within me,
The fury in my veins.

"It's adolescent thinking,
That rush in your brain,
The twitching of your fingers,
The scorching of your heart."

Yet they don't seem to see,
With their condescending eyes,
That the feelings trapped within me,
Are more than adolescent.

The rage I feel to ****,
The need for blood to spill,
The coating of metallic liquid,
Over my pristine knuckles.

To them I'm very simply,
A 'normal adolescent',
And my fury will flee,
When I finally mature.

But I can see it in their eyes,
The suppressed demons that they hide,
Away from the public eye,
From their 'adolescent' years.

So until I'm what they call 'mature',
I'll just have to stay,
Angry, uncontrollable,
And simply adolescent.

I may be young
and often written off because due to my adolescence
but I still feel like everyone else
and I still learn from my lessons
and as the days fly by
and the innocence in my heart lessens
just remember
I was never insane
I just lost track of counting my blessings

I didn't do my homework
But you can say
That I tried
Tomorrow they will notice
My latest rebellious behavior

It annoys me a lot
Because no one ever asks why
Why did our straight A girl didn't succeed
Not this time?

I wish they would ask
Then they would see
That I am no rebellion

I'm actually just being me.

MEMORIES OF A PLACE I'VE NEVER BEEN TO.


Let's pretend
that her name
is
was
foreign

'Darjeeling'

like the tea
from a sunny
faraway place
of colour
and taste.


I mean that
this girl
is
was
sweet, spicy

and warm to the lips

like the tea
from a sunny
faraway place
of colour
and taste.

SECOND LOVE.

Hand-holding as the stars sing:
I think I am getting older.

I don’t believe that’s the roar of God out there,
it’s probably just the wind or crickets, who don’t
burn so bright and distant; screaming in the dark.
Sound doesn’t travel through vacuums anyway so
it’s funny

that I can still hear you
whispering through my phone.

Didn’t that conversation happen a week ago?

You’re under-cover in your bed-sheets,
hiding from your parents while mine just watch TV.
Again, this is all just memory
where sounds cannot reach us,

but I’m sure you can still hear me
as I tell you that, yes,
I’ve finally written words for you, words for me.

What will happen tomorrow?

A GOODBYE MESSAGE.


When the last girl broke my heart, I had died a romantic
-Shakespeare was getting old anyway.
Sleepless and young, I withered a while
And tireless sweat formed dewdrops on my skin
-I see you.

Wait,
what I meant to say was...
I died for nobody's sins
and came back for nobody's hopes...
nobody's hopes but mine.
Hoping
that I could and can still see you.

No.

I don't agree with the opening line
-it really has nothing to do with her.
What I'm trying to say,
What I'm trying to say...

Is that it's better we talk over the phone.

See the last time I broke my  heart, I had died a romantic
-I thought Shakespeare was getting old;
But it was really me of course.
But God you look so timeless right now
-I can still see you dancing in that dress (right now).

And the turns of your heels are kaleidoscope
-You shift from one dress to the next.
Or is that just a way of saying
That my inner clock is a slideshow of you?

I had died a romantic
and was reborn a realist,
and I'm very, very lucky
Because there's nothing...
nothing that's realer than you.

Though

what I' mean and I'm trying to say...
what I mean and I'm trying to say...
is that it's better we talk over the phone...
that I like it when we're on our own.

Goodnight Darjeeling.