Sunshine

Good dreams are nightmares to me Give me things I can't receive Make me be who I can't be Give me those I'll never see I can't stand having those dreams Pretend some girl would love me Wake up not wanting to breathe Good dreams exist to deceive I hate that I can't trust you I hate that I'm so done with you I hate when you cut my wrists I hate that I'm comfortable with this I hate that I can't leave yet I hate that you wanna reset I hate that you're all I need I hate that you're trapped in me The dancer will see your eyes and stretch his legs to a v Arch his back upwards without mentioning Any preference you may have, always ends with both backs stabbed We call this art now so take all you can grab With the joining of two mouths there is only evil there Bite your tongue out as you feel his beard hair There is no pleasure to share, so just rewrite that to pain Rinse and repeat until all feelings are the same God if you could just hear all of these thoughts I have, you would puke I am so tired of having to be rebuked, what do I do I am so scared to talk to anybody else just in case I slip up and talk all psycho and contort my horrid face I couldn't run, ended up spinning Ran in edged circle a billion innings All of those who refuse to pray are now just no longer sinning I shot by the grass, knocked over dip cans I tried to run faster but broke all of my hands My ambition's flat, banshee's in the past No competition but I still just placed last Every time someone tells you that you are not alone, give it back They only say it for themselves, you do not deserve any help If you say that you need a friend, your blank phone will reflect your end They will take everything from you, and never return any truth You ain't the same guy I once knew You got no reason to trust you You don't know who I am yet Know that the word "Yet" indeed implies intent You're my favorite part of the day sunshine Stare at the void in the mirror forever until you're blind You know something? There's someone else that would remind The stalker that he can always find you at this place and time (Align my spine in morning sunshine In morning I'm mourning the waste of my time) Smiles are quiet Cries ignite rockets What is ideal I am not real Bruja sits in rocking chair it creeks inside the wind Her charts align with static when your train of thought rescinds The wood of her porch is filled with all types of mites and worms But they dare not touch her lest all their children become cursed