Arrows aim to crack rib cages But your venom's weak in my blood Poison scabs, coagulated Your hardest try is never enough... -A. Zollo __________________________________________________ Lyrics can describe me to a T sometimes. I hate this. I'm sick and tired of everyone. Pressure and remorse are all I feel around them. They don't understand; they can't. They're not the geniuses they make themselves out to be. Just stupid puppets, shoving idealisitic notions down my throat. PERFECTION IS FARCE! Can't you see that? Can't you lift your painted eyelids and notice? No, an impossibilty. My cries are futile. They only hear what they wish to hear and see what they wish to see. ....And they will never read this. Why do I bother at all? For my own good, I suppose. Self-medication. Something to remind myself I am sane and they are delusional. Just make it stop. I swear to you, I'm not in love.