the saddest thing about this story
he never had a .....
happy begging
happy middle
or happy end

most days my demons are silent
but when they talk
oh god
How they scream

The moon hangs over the earth
A dead thing
Over a dying thing

A boy who shouldn't be alive
Who couldn't be his own person
Learning how to breath without permission
And live without hurting

To be born
your body made a pact with death
And from that moment all it tries to do is cheat

the feeling of powerlessness
that turns good men
cruel

-you know the oldest lie in history? is that power can be innocent

i wont glorify or romanticize heartbreak
for me it was a kind of death
and i was forced to keep on living

the hero who fought long enough to become the victim
the victim who was wronged long enough to become the monster

This is a story about two boys
The taller one has a gun tucked into his waistband
And thinks the bullets are meant for him
The older one has a record player in his head
He sings along to the same five songs
They know each other
Down to the color of blood
And the sound of bones breaking
But they are strangers
The one with the gun keeps forgetting the words
And the boy with the music Won't let him shoot

the flowers died on monday
the clouds cried on tuesday
the sky screamed on wednesday
the sun dimmed on thursday
the stars hid on friday
mother nature weeped on saturday
the earth spun on on sunday