Chaos of Second Chances

March 30, 2010
Rose-colored glasses
Fogged up; greener grasses
Lie beyond my reach in the end
And I spend
Countless hours plucking flowers
And my pin-pricked heart cowers within

Pressed lips that linger
Without saying a word
It’s absurd that silence can hurt so much
hush-hush…don’t wake my demons
after all, if I lay motionless
you might hate me a little less

like a lit-up bomb
I can light up the sky
With my dead marbles served as gazers
Compared to your pretty little eyes
For you, self-sacrifice

Three years fading
And I am waiting
Unclenching my fists
Yes I’m ready for this
Even if you aren’t ready yourself
Even if you aren’t yourself
If you’re not yourself, yeah I always seem to know

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