2003-08-14 - 2:16 p.m.
it's about time that i came clean with you i'm no longer fine and far from running smooth. I thought that i found myself onto something new. one more line i repeat over and over again 'til i'm blue in the face with a choking regret as i talk in circles 'round you on my bed. can't say i blamed you one bit when you kept it all inside when you left that night. it's about time that you get sick of me, no longer fun and so far from interesting i thought that i found me a cure for feeling old. just one more line to keep me sleeping loudly and cold in disgrace with a shameful regret as i talk in tongues to myself in my bed. i can't say i blamed you one bit when you kept it all inside when you left that night and all that followed fell like mercury to hell somehow we lost our heads for the last time. now i can't dream since i quit sleeping and i haven't slept since i met you and you can't breathe without coughing at daytime neither can i so what do you say?...
your coffin or mine?
I think I need therapy. I seriously think I do. Your coffin? Or mine?
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