sweetie dont cry i know

that icy cold barrier or salty water fall in front of me, forged by tears
its pentrable but a charge of energy just behind it spikes my fingers past
only amounts of alcohol, panic attacks and grimy alleys break that charge and for an hour let me cling on, just untill i know things are going to be safe for at least a night. then the tears dry up and even my breath cant reach you
your not fucking alone
your not the only fucking one
yes you have specifics
but its like some fucking formula that you fit in
your not misunderstood
and its not okay to keep on running
i thought we had that down
this is so fucking blatent
and yes it is your own fault
it wasnt to start off with
but it is now
we all do it honey
cling onto it becuase it makes us feel we have a reason to feel like this
babydoll, i fucking understand
remember that okay
and 'to write love on her [fucking] arms'
have a little faith
please
just this once
you know everything you need to save you
and you want everything so fucking bad
but theres one fucking second where you think no, this is what makes me alive
and babydoll... everyone has that to an extent
and you may just be the reason i have lost so many things
but friends fucking stick around when they are pushed away
just incase you trip and fall faster
we can stop you from cracking your fucking head
bear that in mind dollface
its fucking manipulation
its fucking murder
its rape
its discrimination
and its just more medical fees
this is never getting to you
this is my way of 'giving you space'
its up to you to decide if your gonna let me
if you truely want it
but even if i break a fucking ankle your not gonna crack your head
im already scratched and shaking
its fucking unrequited
non mutualistic
parasitic
story of our fucking lives
and im not angry
and i was blind before i saw what i saw
deaf before i heard what i heard
the worlds a tough place baby
every day just knocks you further into decay
until your 85 before your twenty
youve felt everything the world can give
and your loosing all your senses
slowly weakend by breathing
living is the slowest form of suicide
the sickest and the weakest and the most afraid stick it out
because they are afraid to loose anything they have
and baby im one of them
i never want to drag that salt into wounds [cliche]
babes ' the first cut is the deepest'
you truely wanna make things bad
?
didnt think so
the first step is as shakey as your last
the ones in the middle count just as much
please experience counts babydoll
and cause i believe in it so much
let us write love on your fucking arms
kay
xo