This is it.
I haven't written for a while now. And it's no wonder why.
Writing means admitting what's in my heart, I'd rather not.
I want to feel what I want to feel, so tired of being slave to these emotions.
Same old story, I thought I was stronger than that.

Spilling my heart onto this canvas doesn't always make the prettiest picture
It won't sell
But hitting my head against this wall might make a mark to last forever
If the tears won't wash the blood, then why cry as well?

Can you massage these dreams out of me
And throw away the memory
Can you explain one more time how this went so wrong