I can. I can change. I swear, I'll change. I won't. Not anymore. No longer will there be blood shed by me from the dagger in my own hands. No longer. I refuse, I refuse, I refuse. The voices can't get to me, the demon is dead. She's gone and I can't see nothing but a new light, nothing but a shining light and his face. His face, so beautiful. His smile, so flawless. His everything, his soul, perfect. No scars. Not like mine. But I think we'd be perfect. We could be everything. And I could no longer bleed. Just cry my tears of joy. No more lies, no more lies. I wish I could pour my heart out in front of him. Just throw up my words and say it. Say it. But I can't. I wish. I wish and I hope and I dream and I think up scenes, plan it all out and then my guts fall through my stomach and I can no longer do it. I can't even look at him without my heart breaking into a million pieces, burning and then mold itself back together. Its heaven. My masochistic heaven where I love watching my heart burst and come back together again and I love hearing my cries of pain and agony for him. Him and his beautiful, angel's face. So perfect, so far away. So not mine. Out of my reach, out of my grasp. And its a beautiful thing, its gorgeous. Its perfect. Its everything. Its nothing. Its mine. Its not. Its his. Its his and I want a part of it. I want a part of him. Just a shard, just a splinter. I can't stand to look away from his face, away from his angel's aura. So perfect, so perfect. He's everything. He's everything and I'm nothing. We're perfect. Perfect polar opposites. Perfection in its most perfect form. Everything, everything, everything. Nothing and everything all at the same time and I can't stop it from happening I can't stop myself from loving him, from wanting him, from needing him. Him and his perfection. His angel's face. Everything. Everything and nothing, all at once, together. A waltz, a swirl of perfection. And I want it. I want it.
Should be on your shoulders...
