Inside The Heart Of Dark AngelInside The Heart of a Dark Angel
Each time you give me pain,
It tears through my heart
The soreness is so intense,
It makes me hold my breath.
I want to lash out at you!
So you can feel what you have caused
I want you to feel the same agony
You have burdened my heart with.
I want this pain to burn right through you like acid!
As it eats away at your flesh,
Like a knife ripping and tearing
Your blackened heart to shreds
Making it bleed as mine has,
Until there is nothing left.
The chains of love that you wrapped my heart
Pulls tighter and tighter
Squeezing, choking, and suffocating me
Until I can no longer breathe.
Every breathe is like a trial of labor,
All due to the pain you have caused me.
The desire that used to burn for you
Has turned into a hellish inferno of hate.
Blazing with nothing more than
Detestation and abhorrence
All through my body and soul!
This rage I feel inside
Fuels my hatred of you,
Giving me the energy I need to keep going.
I'm Sorry that I Love YouI'm sorry that I love you,
that I just won't go away when you need someone,
that my heart beats fast when you're around,
that when I close my eyes I see your smile.
I'm sorry that I care,
that I consistently ask how your day was,
that I hold our memories dear,
that I'll always look out for you.
I'm sorry that I smile whenever your near.
that I see you first out of anyone in the crowd.
that I always seem to be by your side,
that we just have too many good times together.
I'm sorry that I worry with you,
that I frown when you aren't happy,
that I tear up when you frown,
that I break inside when you tear up.
I'm sorry that I love you,
that I try to make you laugh,
that I want to hold your hand,
that I only want what's best for you.
I'm sorry that my love doesn't fade.
I wasn't aware that your love had an expiration date.
Say It LoudWhat if I told you ' I am so lonely ' ?
Would you come back and said ' I'm sorry ' ?
You know I'll wait 'till the end of time
You know I'll wait to make you mine
You wanted me to say ' I love you ', right?
You knew I do and you didn't mind
But you wanted me to say it loud
You wanted me to make a vow
And I finally said ' I love you, boy '
' Well, that's great but you were my toy '
And then you left me all alone
Untill today you're still gone...
Be the ArtistWith colors we paint the world.
With pencils we write the story.
With pens we sketch the imagination.
Imagine beyond your neighborhood.
Imagine beyond your country.
Imagine beyond your world.
Paint the sky purple,
draw rainbow birds flying through the sky.
Color the grass orange,
water it with flames.
Do anything, nothing, or everything.
Create. Destroy. Discover.
Change the world,
one piece of artwork at a time.
Human Labeler "Oh my God she's so fat!"
"Look at her hair!"
"God does what the fuck is she wearing?"
That's all that's said nowadays.
Guidelines that the world must follow.
Where do we draw the line?
When will we stop labeling those who are different
and not in our clique?
The labels that we give others,
may hurt them more than you think.
Hide, hide, hideHide, hide, hide
Underneath my smile
My world is breaking
Hide, hide, hide
Until I fear death no longer
Since I've already died a thousand times
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"
Hide, hide, hide
While my arms are getting slid
What doesn't kill you
Makes you wish it did.
Beginning We EndHim, in the very beginning:
He is eighteen when he gets his death sentence. Unlike most death sentences, this one isn't going to send him to the guillotine or maybe the noose. Instead, it's handed to him by a doctor with very clean hands in a stark white room probably very similar to the one he'll end up dying in. And it's not the type of death sentence carried out by an impassive executor. He's essentially going to kill himself. He is dying from the inside out.
He mumbles something at the doctor, and suddenly he is on the street, a white piece of paper fisted and crumped in his hands. He's grateful it has the prescription written on it in sloppy medical scrawl, because he sure as hell can't recall half or more of the conversation he just had. All that's left are words like, "terminal" and "life-expectancy" and "5-10 years". He kicks viciously at the curb, wonders how the world can be ending on a day when the sky is blue and the clouds are full and the air is sweet.
The sun plants taun