Loser's Intuition

Life’s a game, and it’s called disappointment. No matter how hard I try, I keep fucking up. I’ve walked a street feeling alone long enough to know that you can never call it home. But I see you; in the same spot that I was two years ago...suicide on the telephone. Making collect calls to brick walls: I never gave a second thought to who would catch my fall. Who decides our fucking lives, the turns we take? Who receives the glory from mistakes we make? We try so hard, to make a stand, make something “mine”...then came you, so fucking “true”, you cut in line! Naming names, you have the fame, and fuck the cost. Turn your back, and drown the rats, it’s all been lost. All been lost. Lost and found. Turned around. We are free. Trust in me. Things will change...break the lease on poor choices made. Pain will cease, scars will fade.