Just to make sure it doesn’t exist anymore.
Let it all be bland, let it all be unexcited,
Tired of pretending to care, tired of faking human emotions, tired of showing joy that doesn’t exist, Tired of being happy for you,
I’m not happy for me, I’m not sad for me, I’m nothing, I feel empty inside,
Pour your emotions in me, Fill me with what you want,
I will be a mirror of your dreams and beliefs; I will be perfect for you,
‘Till I can feel enough to want more.
It might be too late by then, you may be gone or dead by then, and I won’t care
I just won’t have to pretend again.
Love me when I want. Don’t choke me with it, I don’t want too much of it
I don’t want anything, I really don’t want your heart I’m not with mine either,
I can’t be trusted.
I may have changed, I don’t know, I don’t keep track of feelings that don’t exist
It doesn’t get better at the end—it feels like a rave you’ve attended for too long
You know what to do when someone pukes on you,
You know when to wave your hands with glow sticks,
You know how to get drunk enough to be free
Then when it’s all done
You come back home, empty. Drained.
Till some human comes along to pour emotions inside you once more.