SIlver boxes full of Silence
my book has become my prison and words are useless anyhow...
i'm just sick and tired of always being misread and only attaining looks of complete confusion. you would think these fools dont speak teh same language ive been speaking for so long and only chose now to let on. its rediculously manipulative how these stories always go off course, but somehow somewhere inside i could have told myself it would be just that way long before.
the ice is finally melting but its been summer already for months, and the cold was way past its exit cue. the warmer the heart the warmer the mind, and these hearts of ours burn away. the repitition of these lines and her face in a mulitude of colors decends from meaning in blazes.
the closer to the last page, the last mark, the last silhuette we get the closer to the last day we become. closer to that plane that will fly me away from neverland. the smiles that fill this metal box of mine only show the lies behind the flase one this box mirrors so well on my own face and i wish i could cover it up and box it out. packing up your belongings is never easy, but putting your whole life in a box is impossible. i dont want to forget any, but i know somewhere a laugh after some brilliant joke will be left bbehind and a kiss, a smile, your face will be lost forever.
when did it come to this? when did life become so fucking real?
they lied to us as children so we could believe in the fairytales, but how did they expect us to make it through after they were tainted by all this fucking corruption. they told me life is beautiful, but now i see its all but that.
all i want to do is ruin them, all of them. forever. for making the world this way, but i know that then they'll win. then they'll be satisfied with a stolen laugh that someone like me left behind somewhere they loved. maybe this is all for nothing, but at least it was something along the way.
the means justify the ends it seems and i'm starting to think thats the way it was all along. one person got it wrong and made it a trend. these words are useless and i dont understand why we bother to translate them only to transfer their meaning along the way. its one of those things that had good potential but somehow were just not ready for it.
remember when we didnt need these words to communicate and we would sit and listen to nothing at all and know exactly what was in our hearts and minds? those are the memories i want to fill my box with. those perfect silent moments where we talked for eternity heart to heart. no one can ever taint our silence. no one can repeat our manipulations.
i'm just sick and tired of always being misread and only attaining looks of complete confusion. you would think these fools dont speak teh same language ive been speaking for so long and only chose now to let on. its rediculously manipulative how these stories always go off course, but somehow somewhere inside i could have told myself it would be just that way long before.
the ice is finally melting but its been summer already for months, and the cold was way past its exit cue. the warmer the heart the warmer the mind, and these hearts of ours burn away. the repitition of these lines and her face in a mulitude of colors decends from meaning in blazes.
the closer to the last page, the last mark, the last silhuette we get the closer to the last day we become. closer to that plane that will fly me away from neverland. the smiles that fill this metal box of mine only show the lies behind the flase one this box mirrors so well on my own face and i wish i could cover it up and box it out. packing up your belongings is never easy, but putting your whole life in a box is impossible. i dont want to forget any, but i know somewhere a laugh after some brilliant joke will be left bbehind and a kiss, a smile, your face will be lost forever.
when did it come to this? when did life become so fucking real?
they lied to us as children so we could believe in the fairytales, but how did they expect us to make it through after they were tainted by all this fucking corruption. they told me life is beautiful, but now i see its all but that.
all i want to do is ruin them, all of them. forever. for making the world this way, but i know that then they'll win. then they'll be satisfied with a stolen laugh that someone like me left behind somewhere they loved. maybe this is all for nothing, but at least it was something along the way.
the means justify the ends it seems and i'm starting to think thats the way it was all along. one person got it wrong and made it a trend. these words are useless and i dont understand why we bother to translate them only to transfer their meaning along the way. its one of those things that had good potential but somehow were just not ready for it.
remember when we didnt need these words to communicate and we would sit and listen to nothing at all and know exactly what was in our hearts and minds? those are the memories i want to fill my box with. those perfect silent moments where we talked for eternity heart to heart. no one can ever taint our silence. no one can repeat our manipulations.