senseless hearts - second hand smoke lyrics
i’m awaken by the first light of morning and second hand smoke in my lungs, in an empty room where above my head b-tterflies were hung, an empty room where pain had made itself eminent, with writing on the walls asking to let me fall, and it was evident that every word used was to help paint the story of their legacy, that room in its emptiness held the saddest poetry, and it went something like this
painting veins in hope he’d fade away and not have to feel the pain, a strained life that feels neglect and shame, needle point hope to help him cope with the demons inside each day, that tortures the mind that coincides with the lies, he writes and watches as the ink crawls on the walls that calls him the monster, it’s a reminder to the writer that he’s nothing but a goner, and with a child like penmanship he wrote, “not all scars heal”, he had a lack of belief that the pain he continues to feel could ever find relief, he wants so badly to feel something other than cold inside, he’s felt this way for a long time and now strives just to feel nothing, because at this point it’s easier to feel nothing than something, so he numbs the nerves and blackens the veins so this coldness he feels no longer remains, he had no love, no hope, and felt the dope was his only friend, and in the end he died with those thoughts in his head, he died with those thoughts in his head
it was hard to look on that wall that became his memorial, because nothing was left behind but more pain and those tortured thoughts in his mind, but for me it became a reminder of how alone someone can truly feel, and that every chance i get i need to share this love, make it real, because that next person might need to know they’re loved, and the source of this love that comes from above, share love, speak hope, wake up
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