the lost.

all those dirty words you said,
you used them to make your bed.

a day like this makes you wonder
how someone so innocent
can have so much taken from them,
and you feel a little worse inside.
why one and not the other?
"any other," you swear.


that time you did that thing
that no one knows about.
times like these bring
your focus home,
and you want to scream
so loud.
you'll be quiet, instead.

makes you wonder why you're still
               breathing.
what makes you so fucking special?
makes you think about all you've lost.
makes you imagine all the things you
lost that you haven't even realized
you've lost yet.
just what all did you lose today?


88 keys and a smile, gone.
a cigarette never looked so beautiful,
for so many reasons you'll never understand.
bad handwriting you'll never forget,
and you're lost in all those inside jokes.


and you wonder if, when your time comes,
will you even be worth it?

dreaming won't come easy tonight,
because you'll just lie awake wondering
why it had to be this way
and not some other way.
why did it have to be this way?


you wish they could understand what you've been through.
you wish they could understand that things will get better.
you wish they knew all that they've lost,
and why it had to be this way.
why can't you understand?
you wish they could understand.


you've got a bad feeling about this.




you're tired now,
and you never want to ask another question.
you've been asking for a while now,
and you haven't heard a single answer;
not one reply.
settle, and be still.


all those dirty words i said,
i used them to make my bed.
we are not the same.