


It's called fall because everything is falling
Leaves, temperature, bank account, grades, self esteem
I'm trying to fix my pride.
Well, that shit's broken.
Of all the lies you told me I love you was my favorite
We are all a bit broken, that's how the light gets in.
And if I die before I learned to speak
Can money pay for all the days I lived awake
But half asleep?
The funniest about it all is that I cannot imagine anyone being in love with me.
To me it seems to be impossible that anyone might think about me at night and wonder if I think about him to.
Or that he talks to his friends about me, acting all cool but wearing that goofy grin in his face that betrays him and makes them make fun about him.
It's not that I think I couldn't accept love.
It's just that I can't imagine anyone feeling that way about me.
I honestly cannot imagine being in love with a guy.
I can't imagine dressing up and playing dumb and pretending that I need a boy who's going to treat me like a toy, because everyone knows the only thing a boy can give a girl for free is captivity.
But this Queen doesn't need a king.
The worst part is sitting here, after all this years, thinking about you. Wondering where you are, how you are, how you've been and if you sometimes sit down as well and miss me, or even think about me at all.
And even worse than that is the question why I'm even wondering at all.

I avoid looking people straight in the eyes, because they speak the truth when everything else is a lie, and I'm scared of telling too much.

The truth is people hate winning.
When you always win you start getting expectations and become fearful of not being able to fulfill them.
But at the same time they hate losing even more.
People can't stand anyone who's better than them, they rather feel empathy than jealousy.
And that's why they always try to win.
I love getting complimented but I never believe.
I see beauty in everyone except for myself.

I'm the person everyone replaces after some while
First they tell you to be yourself.
Then, when you're open and vulnerable, they judge you.
And all my ex-friends think it's okay,
it's all forgotten, in the past.
But these kind of wounds,
they last and they last.
I grew up with a lot of dreams, plans of who I want to be.
None of them were mine.
There were many rumors about me, my repution.
It was all just a lie.
Some nights I would just stay awake until the world turned black and white.
Searching for a light in the dark, and think about life.
I wasn't depressed or sad.
I was just lost, mistaking the traffic lights for stars and falling down instead of reaching high, without even realizing.
We used to be inseperable.
And that's how I started believing I was irreplaceable.
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