calling you.

ihearyou. and yet i still wonder why i don't listen.
maybe i have some disease.
yes.
that's it.
i have a disease. it's called fantasy. it tells my brain little things i wish would happen but don't. sofuckingunreal.
gunned down by my own armor.
if that's how it is, just shoot me. i can feel the blood rush to your head, as you hang yourself upside down in ways i couldn't hope to do myself, but i want to anyway, just to see if i pass out.
i hate streetlights. they brighten the world when you want the chaotic calm of the dark.
read me like a book. there is more between those secret lines then you can imagine. i'm the most complicated scavenger hunt. just try to find my heart. it's buried just as deep as my courage, and my honesty. this could be true,and it could still be contaminated by filthy lies.

'Please enjoy the music while your party is reached.'