I get so jealous of those who know how to throw old pieces and pick new pawns in the game

Break hearts and disappoint everyone to satisfy their broodiness

Giving the same old “that’s who we are” shit

Carving insecurity in every relationship

Running behind imagination mortifying reality

I wish I was that free… to kill expectations… to live in my la la land… avoid the hurt in those eyes… count all those I broke… breathe and suck life out of them..

No I’ll always be weak… yeah never denying my weaknesses… saving them even when I shouldn’t… love them even when they truly ever couldn’t

They’ll be better… step on me like stairs

But when you are done with it… you’ll have only broken pieces around… while I’ll grow strong and beautiful with each mark that you leave… I’ll always be needed…

Not you… and if you are, they are in it to be dead just again… and you are in it to be bored yet again