You're never gonna love me, so what's the use? What's the point in playing a game you're gonna lose? What's the point in saying you love me like a friend? What's the point in saying it's never gonna end?
-Marina and The Diamonds
Hope ya like it
SeclusionSeclusion Sometimes you need seclusion to reclaim your mind.Blacken your vision and close your eyes,Plug your ears from the outside,As you fall back, back inside of “I.”And not “we,” “he,” “she,” but me.Sometimes to find myself, I must lose everyone else.
You'll never read this.I've made up my minddecidedthatI wanted to becoveredin the ashand glassthat was scatteredacross your cemetarywhen the devil cameand smoked a cigaretteover your tomband I watchedwithred glovesred clothesblack heartblack soulit was like silkyourtranslucent skinshiningin the moonlightbecause I chose the perfect timefor youto smileand I knewthat you werelying through your teethevery day that youpretended as if you knewwhat your purpose wasso here I standwithred glovesred clothesblack heartblack souland I leftwatching as the cigarette asheswere sucked up by agiggling windthat thought it was funnythis loveit wasn't funnyit wasn't a jokelike you thought it wasand I'll keep this scene playing in my headwhile you'll keep laughing withyour friendsand not noticingmeover herealonewithpale handspale clothespale heartblue soul.
The point is there is noneWhen you first start to see lifeas a curse, you’re shot down.Don’t give up, they say, you’regonna go far. They fill you withpromises that it’ll get good soonand guilt trips about howselfish you’re being. They tellyou “life gets better”but you realize after awhilethat that’s not true;life doesn’t change—you do.You grow up and your idealismgets sucked out of you andeverything that happened whenyou were a kid is still happening,but now you have better thingsto think about.Gotta get ahead in the world,go for that gustoeveryone told you about.So you break your back in college,get addicted to coffee and alcohol,fall in love and have your heartjackhammered a few times;get a job (that you likely hate)under a lazy boss who’s power-tripping;maybe you get married,propagate the species,have some weekend hobbies,some pets,a circle of friends.Then one day you ask yourself,“Now what? What is there
Playing tricksI can no longer expresswhat my thoughts seem to feelI can no longer saywhat words I no longer graspMy mind seems to run awayto somewhere I can't seeMy mind seems to fleewhen my thoughts come nearSomething is stuck in my mindbut I don't know of what kindSomething is stuck inside methat others can no longer seeIt has been there around so longbut it has left me for another songDark feelings of a different kindFeelings I can no longer findSomething is slipping away in my headbut I don't know what thoughts I just hadMy mind hides something away from meMy mind, is playing tricks with me
There Was a Young Girl Who Swallowed a LieThere was a young girl who swallowed a lie,I don't know why she swallowed a lie,Perhaps she'll die.There was a young girl who swallowed some cider,It squirmed and writhed and burned inside her,She swallowed the cider to drown the lie,I don't know why she swallowed the lie,Perhaps she'll die.There was a young girl who swallowed a word,Tears blurred, she swallowed that word,She swallowed the word to scare the cider,That squirmed and writhed and burned inside her,She swallowed the cider to drown the lie,I don't know why she swallowed a lie,Perhaps she'll die.There was a young girl who swallowed some fat,Imagine that, she swallowed the fat,She swallowed the fat to hurl the word,She swallowed the word to scare the cider,That squirmed and writhed and burned inside her,She swallowed the cider to drown the lie,I don't know why she swallowed the lie,Perhaps she'll die.There was a young girl who swallowed the fog,Her throat a bog, she swallowed the fog,She swallowed the
EmptyIf I were a road, You’d be a travelerWith a broken transmission, slashed tiresAnd a light that reads empty.If I were a wreck, You’d be a passengerWith a broken windshield, bruised neckAnd a face that reads empty.If I were death, You’d be a victimWith embalming fluid, fresh makeupAnd a body that reads empty.
You said hello as you walked away.You knocked on my door, when I had already left the apartment.You whispered "I want you back", once I had gone deaf.You called me constantly, when my number was not in service.You said you had my back, when all I could see was yours.© Rocio Belinda Mendez
Maker'sThe day passed-a short breath in his memory.By morning it was almost time.By evening he was someone elsecompletely.To him, it meant nothingif the moonlight was tarnished.That snow could stay black for another week.Nothing can take back forgetting.
People Like MeNobody likes people like me,those people they don't understand.The people who sit by a wall,but stick out like a boulder in sand.Nobody likes people like me,the ones whose thoughts are deep.I guess we scare them a littlewith the way we act and think.Long ago I learnedto paint masks on my small shell.They hid the things I really knewand the things I really felt.Now I mirror back at peoplethe things they want to see.But inside I am longingto rid these masks of me.Nobody likes people like me,even though I really tryto make everyone happywhile I slowly die inside.Nobody likes people like me,and I'm starting to cave in.Exhausted of these judgmentsand battles from within.Will anyone really listen?Or really understandthe things that I say here?Does anybody even care?Nobody likes people like me,and people like me don't knowthat there are others out there,other people to help them show.Nobody likes people like me,but I think if we could findanother who's just l