Sunday, November 16, 2008
the confessions of the obsessions and the possesions of the ghastly ghouls
i want to have a purpose
i feel like writing, the sudden urge
but when i pick up the pen - i suddenly realise
i have nothing else to write
you lie, lie for the ones you love
when you're bleeding inside you'll tell them everythings alright
that everything's going to be okay, with a smile plastered upon your face
just so it's easier for them to live - to breathe
when you love someone, you'd do everything you could
and the saddest part is, they wouldn't do it for you.
he's dead to me, and as for me? the only difference is that his heart's still beating
note:
i hate people who pop over uninvited. i might not even like you.
get it?
5:18 PM