The songs sing like venom in your ears. With rhythm, rhymes, and so called reasons. The treasons curse like poison in your ears. With purpose, plans, and long lost prayers. 

Copy and paste all the parts that I want to be on top of the parts that I am, my brain computer overloaded, guess I’m stuck as Frankenstein.

I don’t know anything about love. I don’t know anything about hearts, except when myocarditis starts. Pink hearts weren’t all over my notebook, neither were another’s last name behind mine. But still I let my mind go crazy over illusions, things based on circumstance and coincidence. 

You’re  scrubbing your hands but they won’t get clean. I imagine you feel the cold so easily. I made a conclusion in my head and the idea keeps being re-born over and over again. Sometimes words don’t come so easily, sometimes actions don’t make sense. I’ll be cursed, detached, and defamed. It’s like I’ve been framed, labaled, and distanced. Honestly i don’t think it’s worth it.

Each to their own, I won’t try to confide in someone so blind. Tragedy seep through a world where I struggle to understand the fundamental ingredient to undo my regret. Not much could hold my attention but not much could break my attention. Though things are only in my head.