why do we question, those we do not know, when we do not question, those we know, although it is the ones we know, that hurt us most
my heart forever cracking, waiting for one last crack, before smashing, into a million pieces
what is the point of life?, to be hurt, then recover, only to be hurt again, well i ask who would chose such a life, not i, but its the life i have, and im never to escape it
love is, having your heart ripped out, by someone who doesnt care, not even a single bit, watching them tear it, then giving you back, the tiniest bit, so they can see you cry
hearts are fragile things, you need to treat them lovingly, but people dont, the haert breaks, and a person falls to pieces
go through life, feeling like your in hell, then wake up one day, to find your dead, red hot flames surround you, and for the first time, you think youve found heaven
why care about those, who dont give a s**t about you, why love those who will never love you back, why care about those, that will stab you in the back
If you get hurt, hold your head up high, never show weakness, dont let them see you cry
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