moodscribe

I write down my pain like there’s someone to read it
My pen burns on the page in a rush like I need it
I’ve got nothing to say on the days where there’s someone
All alone it’s all there I don’t know where it comes from
It’s just pages of woe and of love and regret
They’re just scrawls that don’t rhyme I’ve not finished one yet
I’m in love with the pain and in pain from the love
There’s just nothing to gain from not feeling enough
So I feel and I feel and it hurts and feels good
And I write that shit down like it’s something I should.