the lack of air makes me feel just as if
i lost you and with you away went ground beneath my feet.

does anyone need
what i write on this page
probably not
unless i'm Nicholas Cage.

anaemic and pale
i'm walking these streets.
they resemble the corridors
where you get lost for weeks.

they're not pretty or homely
they make you feel sick
anaemic, confused
your faith grows weak.

I close my eyes when crossing the road
i become deaf when birds sing their songs.
i don't want to be happy-
here it doesnt make sense.
i'd rather lock myself up
within self pity and tales.

we never fully recover.
we never get up from our knees
we never know what kind of power
lies beneath our stumbling feet.
we've had our ups and lows
were way up high and saw the hell below
i d like to see you fall down from your throne
id like to see you cry and your heart eaten by the blackest crow.

when i was young i was naive
i used to love and then deceive
i used to own and leave behind
and hoped one day i would be fine.

My mother said the pain will ease.
hers never went away at all
but she kept saying
daughter please
just carry on.
i used to chase the planes and cars
i used to jump over the bars
so reckless was i, and so dumb
my mother said it was the climb.
you have to push and hurt and fail
to write your own beautiful tale.
the prince...i havent met him yet.
just came across the hourse he had.
the house got tired of his ****
and left him saying he was cheap.
im moving on looking for lords,
looking for kings and knights with swords.
why is it getting harder to give love?
maybe because i was bertrayed or cheated on
maybe because he was unworthy of
whatever.
i will one day meet the right one
who will give me a beautiful prince son.
someone who i'll live for until i die;
find someone who would keep me near
in stead of looking for a way to kick me out.
out of his life forever.
the one who'll tell me i'm his dear
the one i know so much about .

sometimes i am
sometimes I'm not
sometimes my mind tights into knots
sometimes i live
sometimes survive
sometimes somedays i take a scarf
i wrap it round my neck and hold
the ends until your arms unfold
it didn't happen the last time
i thought i died, but now I'm fine.
sometimes i shake
and let it go
sometimes i laugh and carry on
sometimes somedays
i meet new me
and at that point i let it be
and then i see my eyes shine bright
when i don't see of you a sight.

Is this what mother calls 'the purest love'
when you curse your child like he is no god.
you bring him down and make sure they know fully well
you regret giving birth to them.
that's how my mother treated me my whole not so long life
now that i'm lying breathless, pale so lifeless
she oh finally seems like she does mind.
and still she looks and says:
"what a disgrace! you could have taken pills!
save what you had of a such pretty face! "
little she knows i hear every word.
i hear her sigh, her heart has already burnt
all memory of me and what i left
is no longer alive. she took my life but got away with theft.
oh mother! why couldn't you love me!
i tried to clear the skies above your head!
oh mother! why couldn't you trust me
forgive me my mistakes. but you cut the last thread.
my hollow body's hanging on a noose.
my legs are finally seem skinny,
clothes are loose.
i finally have that light in my eyes
oh, woe is me, to shine i had to die.
oh mother, i prayed please don't torture me
but you had different view on what daughter should be
if only i was loved and understood
maybe i would be happier than i thought i ever could.