My Lyrical Contribution To Valentine's Day

I see a black bird moving like a shadow through the sky,
And it's vast wings gleam raven in the moonlight.
And it croons and caws and knocks on my door.
And my heart skips a beat because I know what that means.

It's not the omen of death but the awakening of my heart;
It means the man I love is digging his way out of his grave,
And we will dance in dark amidst the boquets and gravestones,
As two dark, romantic lovers until the sun rises once again.

Because I'm in love with a dead man,
And I'm in love with a poet, yeah.
We're just two tortured souls on an uneven road,
And we'll hurt ourselves for our creative toll.
And though the cost is great; it's music to our ears,
And we were poets born lost - me and E. Allan P.

And I feel like a jynx and people look like I'm bad luck.
Like I'm a black cat that should be kept away and cast out.
And though I can barely see, I can still feel.
And I find comfort in knowing that this doesn't have to be real.

And the raven crows.

It's not the omen of death but the awakening of my heart;
It means the man I love is digging his way out of his grave,
And we will dance in dark amidst the boquets and gravestones,
As two dark, romantic lovers until the sun rises once again.

Because I'm in love with a dead man,
And I'm in love with a poet, yeah.
We're just two tortured souls on an uneven road,
And we'll hurt ourselves for our creative toll.
And though the cost is great; it's music to our ears,
And we were poets born lost - me and E. Allan P.

Can you hear it? Ba-bum-da-dum-dum.
If you listen, can you hear it? Ba-bum-da-dum-dum.
Those who mock me, can you hear it? Ba-bum-da-dum-dum.
It's the sound of us; It's the sound of us - Our tell-tale hearts.

Because I'm in love with a dead man,
And I'm in love with a poet, yeah.
We're just two tortured souls on an uneven road,
And we'll hurt ourselves for our creative toll.
And though the cost is great; it's music to our ears,
And we were poets born lost - me and E. Allan P.

Drowning in the Styxe

I need you to drive the knife into my heart
     because I couldn't get it far enough.
I need you to end it all to save me
     because I'm the broken one.

If you love me more than anything,
     then you'll give this gift I need desperately -
my last final wish before I let you go
    and free my lost and lonely soul.

Will you let me drown in the Styxe?
Will you let Lethe carry me
    to a place where I can forget I ever lived?
Death's no stranger there; I'd be more welcome in his lair.
It took me more than twenty years to find my place of rest.

I'll swim in the river of the dead,
And I'll fly with my fellow ghosts.
I'll swim in the river of the dead,
And I'll fly with my fellow ghosts:
 
     These lost but friendly souls.

Painter's Palette

I'm living in a land of make believe, where nothing's as it seems.

It's black and white, and this shade of green doesn't flatter me.

But I'm envious of the life you lead and desperate to change the one that's mine.

In a dark and lonely world, my colors can be deceiving.

I paint bright skies, I add color to my own life.

And I paint the stars at night.

I paint bright skies, I add color to my own life.

And make a rainbow when I need it.

Because when I hold the brush in my hand, who's to say I have to wait for the rain?

This is my palette, and my life's my own canvas to do as I please.

I don't have that much to give; I don't have that much to take.

But I'll make use of what I can, the world's putty in my hands.

I feel wet tears stream down my face; the skies are crying with me.

The clouds outside are grey, and I feel dull, I don't like to feel this way.

I paint bright skies, I add color to my own life.

And I paint the stars at night.

I paint bright skies, I add color to my own life.

And make a rainbow when I need it.

Because when I hold the brush in my hand, who's to say I have to wait for the rain?

This is my palette, and my life's my own canvas to do as I please.

I've shattered dreams, I've spread lies.

Destroyed hopes and misled minds.

The word is out, you can't trust me.

It's said I thrive on being greedy.

Close your ears and open your mind

Listen to me, look in my eyes.

I paint bright skies, I add color to my own life.

And I paint the stars at night.

I paint bright skies, I add color to my own life.

And make a rainbow when I need it.

Because when I hold the brush in my hand, who's to say I have to wait for the rain?

This is my palette, and my life's my own canvas to do as I please.

Queen of the Damned

The irony is not lost on me.

The subtlety behind your actions that seem

Like you love me; there's no one but me.

You say you love me

For what you think I am.

But I know how to read between the lines.

And liars can always tell lies.

I'm the queen of the damned.

I invented the sinner's hand.

I rule the world with an iron fist.

I'm the queen of the damned.

And you're a lost soul.

While I’m queen, welcome to my land.

Kiss my feet and take my hand

Bow before your queen.

I am kind and merciful

To those who show who they adore – and that’s me.

But I know how to read between the lines.

And liars can always tell lies.

I’m the queen of the damned.

I invented the sinner’s hand.

I rule the world with an iron fist.

I’m the queen of the damned.

And you’re a lost soul.

While I’m queen, welcome to my land.

Say it like you mean it.

Pretend like you mean it.

Make me believe it.

Think that you believe it.

And liars can always find liars, and liars sleep with liars.

And we lie, but we don't hide it, cause we know that we’ve been bad.

And liars can always find liars, and liars sleep with liars.

And we lie, but we don't hide it, cause we know that we’ve been bad.

I’m the queen of the damned.

I invented the sinner’s hand.

I rule the world with an iron fist.

I’m the queen of the damned.

And you’re a lost soul.

While I’m queen, welcome to my land.

Is it me?

Moving to a new place is hard. I always thought that I wanted to jet off somewhere and meet new people, see new places, explore new cultures...that feeling hasn't changed really, but I didn't expect the loneliness that comes with such a dream. A part of me feels like a social pariah - the one at the party that everyone chooses to ignore if even invited at all, though usually not. What is wrong with me? I'm not the one you would expect to be so weary and lonely.

It's hard looking around at people as they laugh and tell stories of their lives; I smile, drink my coffee, and makes jokes in return. Even if I get a laugh, it's just never enough. There's something about me that will draw people in only so far before they turn around and walk away even faster. I've always been this way, and it's always been something that confused me. I'm not too devastating to look at, I smile (in public) more than anything, and I'm always friendly. So what is it that I'm missing? Why are other people who are more cruel, more angry, or even somewhat dull making bonds with people in ways that I never could?

The loneliness in my life has made me wearier, and I've found myself losing myself in my dreams. I imagine a brighter future, picturing myself in a city where I am surrounded by strangers, waving at familiar faces, and basking in the brightness of the day. But I have 4 more years of darkness before a dawn that I don't even know will be there. And it's hard to swallow the feeling that things could never, in fact, change.

I miss having someone I could call. I miss getting excited for the weekend when I would actually venture outside my home. I miss laughing, comforting, ranting, running, and even just sitting in contented silence with someone else who was happy to be with me. Now I dread the days that are filled with nothing, when all that accompanies me are the darkest thoughts of my mind. I hate the feeling that my throat is full of air that can never reach my lungs. I hate feeling like I'm about to cry before turning outside to watch the birds and pretend like that's me flying through the sky.

But above all else, I'm terrified because I know that I will continue on, pushing through each day like it's just another one and accepting desperation as routine as the setting of the sun. And I watch as the time ticks by and the days pass, idly wishing that each one would be my last. Though I have a hope, though fruitless as it seems, that has roots buried deep...and yet, every day, I ask the question: am I strong or am I weak?

Run

I keep meaning to write real words, but my actions inspire songs instead. So I wrote this literally in 5 minutes, just a few minutes ago actually. I think my mind just thinks in lyrics these days.

Perhaps one day someone will sing them for me, if they're brave enough to sing them on a thousand TVs. 
Because I'm not meant to be stuck in the light, and the gleaming of the screen just wasn't meant for me.

Lyrics:

I cut myself to know I'm alive.
A mindless act to pass the time.
I see red running down  my side,
and I think, Is that mine? Is that mine?

I drown myself in layers so I can disguise myself.
I dye my hair so I could hide from those who know my name.
But I can only run so far before I'm out of breath.
And no matter how far I go, I end up back from where I came.

So I'll run in circles and I'll run in circles.
And I'll run in the dark and I'll run in the dark.
And I'll hide from you and I'll hide from me.
And I'll close my eyes and pretend it's all a dream.

I blink, squeeze, and shut my eyes.
Wishing I could sleep, wishing I could die.
But it's not my time; it's not my time.
And I think, when is mine? When is mine?

I drown myself in layers so I can disguise myself.
I dye my hair so I could hide from those who know my name.
But I can only run so far before I'm out of breath.
And no matter how far I go, I end up back from where I came.

So I'll run in circles and I'll run in circles.
And I'll run in the dark and I'll run in the dark.
And I'll hide from you and I'll hide from me.
And I'll close my eyes and pretend it's all a dream.

I've fallen and I can't get up; I guess my feet have finally had enough.
And my mind is screaming for me legs to pick me up,
but I'm disconnected and senseless and numb.
I've fallen and I can't get up; I guess my feet have finally had enough.
And my mind is screaming for me legs to pick me up,
but I'm disconnected and senseless and numb.

But I'll try and I will

Run in circles and I'll run in circles.
And I'll run in the dark and I'll run in the dark.
And I'll hide from you and I'll hide from me.
And I'll close my eyes and pretend it's all a dream.

So I'll run in circles and I'll run in circles.
And I'll run in the dark and I'll run in the dark.
And I'll hide from you and I'll hide from me.
And I'll close my eyes and pretend it's all a dream.


 

Clownlike Faces

One of these days, I will write something other than my made-up lyrics. It's too bad you can't hear the melody and the piano to them...but you'll have to imagine the somber music and harsh notes.

I'm seeing clown-like faces on the street before me.
It's like a spastic circus under the guise of normalcy.
I'm see flashing lights and neon signs.
It's like herding cattle on a Saturday night.

I'll bleed my name in diamonds; I'll polish my bones.
Spruce myself up so when I fall it's still a show.
My dreams are crashing down, pull the curtain; it's time to run.
Let's the paint the stage red with what's bleeding from my arm.

 And all those people who are screaming my name cannot see my pain.
And all those flashes and Cheshire grins are enough to make me insane.

Because in the city lights, I'm just one lonely soul.
And under the neon signs, crawl too many lonely people.
And I can barely stand; I can barely breathe.
What's one person in a city of people just like me?

So I'll dance to the beat of my own drum,
And I'll sing to the notes of my own song.
And I'll dance to the bum-bum-bum-bum-bum.
And when I fall, will someone help me up?