Sitting there, pen in hand, fingers covered in ink,
With only one lucid thought in his head.
So he wrote.
But that’s where his sane thoughts ended and insanity began.
Where passion began.
His ink ran out,
Yet his mind still shouted “write!”
And so he used the ink in his veins,
Writing the final chapters of his poet’s life in red.
"I fell in love once before,
now I wont be falling for that anymore.
You’d whisper to me and we’d watch some t.v. as we laid on your living room floor.
I don’t wanna see you,
I don’t wanna hear your sweet voice.
No I don’t wanna talk anymore.
So if you happen to think of me,
don’t think I will be waiting around like before.
Don’t call my phone,
‘cause I’m feeling alone and I’d probably take it all back.
And God only knows,
I must stay on my toes.
‘Cause I can’t allow myself to do that.
I always wanted you to stay,
but now I’m wishing you away.
If this is what love feels like,
I’m done with it.”
I wanted to give you the world.
I tried so damn hard just to get it.
But when I handed it to you,
You brushed it off like it was nothing.
You didn’t want my stupid world.
You wanted so much more.
You wanted the stars.
You wanted the whole damn universe.
And no matter how hard I tried,
All I could give you was my world.
So I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.
But while I was simply a shitty world,
To me you where the vast infinite everything.