I don't want to talk about it,

I don't think you'd understand,

How things can get so fucked up

With such good intentions

If roofs turn to sky,

Held by the gravity of nothing,

An ironic and literal making of a bed

You can walk away,

But there is a reason to stay

They make bad jokes,

It's okay not to laugh

For every push foward,

Feels like you get

The same fucking push back

When you had nowhere to go,

You found someplace,

Now with nothing to say

You start lying

What the fuck was I thinking (you ask)

I'm not sorry...

I'd do it all again

Now with all the lines

So blurred between hate, love, and revenge

These are just dead feelings.