Mischief found in the most utterly dark places.
A room, my room, where I sleep is where you'll find it.
The hideous monster drunk with passion,
Dressed black, wearing it like the latest fashion.
Skin tight clothes and enough emotions to fill Godzilla's steps.
With a bright wishful communion and a broken heart erects.
Time...
Nothing but a vision of persuasion and manipulation faced as a suspect.
These... These, photographic relapses...
They laugh at me, they make me cry.
They are what fills these cuts with blood.
These are what makes a manic child enter a depressive childhood.
Now thoughts are the only thing holding me back.
From the leap that I'm told to make.
Peer pressured...
But once I attempt the jump, if I fail I refuse to try again.
I Refuse...
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