The Prisoner
by Damages· from Love's Labor
is it really better to be lost than found? just to keep on writing words to a
hopeless sound? just to make myself feel worse every time you come around? just
to tear my fucking throat up and continue staring at the ground?
i keep on asking "why me?", when i really should be asking "why not me?".
please, please will you tell me all of your dreams cos i'm desperately in need of
something to steal; all the mountains and hills, all the rivers and streams... something tangible for me to feel.
mistakes that i keep repeating.
heartaches... i just keep repeating.
these four letters made a prisoner out of me: H-A-T-E, but these four letters will be the keys to set me free: L-O-V-E.
...another part of my story unfurled.
there is no justice in this world.