Once upon a time, I could echo.
"love is not allowed in me."
the beautiful words always raise the stakes to remember these things
but it is night and i am dreaming.
I am dreaming cannot hide.
I am dreaming this pain will never end.
I am dreaming you could be the same...
..that i could be the same.
Now listen to my story.
A night child grows restless in his secret garden, in his forgotten
still waiting to walk away...
with his blood raining back upon him.
Still with grass stained blue-jeans and dreams tainted with "forever".
A little boy that chokes on nightmares,
in a place where intention hangs in the leaves
and the night is calm enough to fall in love,
with the whispered words of broken hearts...
and as all the pain comes flooding back,
my memories finish what my razor starts.
This is a new holiday, with a new season.
This is a new explanation with a different reason.
It has no happy ending,
no beautiful fairy...
no path leading home...
no wish fulfilled.
And it's written with every word that you have ever ignored.
It's about falling asleep and feeling nothing,
and when it's almost over...
it's about dying alone.
Now remember. Just listen.
Scream my words as if you knew,
as if you could understand vacancy in the soul of a child.
...a candlelit picture of fading hearts,
and a memory to finish what your razor starts.
We'll drift off to sleep wondering why,
we fell from the sea to ponder the sky...
waiting to be forgotten in
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