It only takes a minute to see how we destroy
ourselves. We blame life for not giving
us what we need and for always having
our backs against the wall. We place the
blame on everything else, but our own thoughts.
We can’t live life without getting burned.
But it’s wasn’t life that burned us, I look back
and see that it wasn’t life that was breaking
me it wasn’t life that destroying me at this
point it’s not hard to tell my story.
I didn’t need life to destroy me because
for years I destroyed myself. Going
back on my words, breaking promises
I made to myself. Lying saying it wasn’t
me, but knowing damn well it was every
piece of me. I just didn’t want a part
of me to grow and be happy. It’s funny how
we treat ourselves and blame it on life.
So lonely we take what we feel we can get.
We take any kind of contact. We take any
phrase of words whispered into our ears to
make us feel good, to make us feel like we’re
something instead of just nothing. Because we
won’t accept the fact that despite all this damn
heartbreak we were always worth it.
It’s hard when you tell you’re own story for the
first time, but not me I had to face the fact that I was...
Letting entanglements trick me into
thinking I loved something despite the
fact I watched as it destroyed me. Looking
back I saw how it made me push away people
who could give me that happy ending I saw while
I was constantly dreaming. We fuck up our
own lives and it’s the life that tries to saves us.
We live and learn as it’s not the life that burns
us with the lessons we refused to learn. The life
lessons we refused to acknowledge. The
moments we lost, the ones that got away
we’ll never know we had. Sometimes we just
gotta hold ourselves accountable and tell
our stories of how we almost destroyed
We’ll look back and say it’s funny.