Where I’ve been

Sometimes I turn my back on
the truth of who I was
how cruel I could be
setting to the floods
I burned bridges and memories
burned it all to the floor
made sure I couldn’t remember
because I didn’t want it no more
I was held up on pedestals
called a goddess and a queen
but then I remember
all the hell that I’d bring
nobody knew me
even when they thought they did
because I didn’t trust them
that’s the way that I lived
sometimes I try my best to forget
like nothing ever happened
before I decided it did
but when I lost everything
even my mind
I saw it all clearly
the choices were mine
I know who I am now
because I know where I’ve been
sometimes I might want to run
but I stand where I am
I’ll grow from the ashes
or I’ll accept that I’ve drowned
I’ll make my own way here
someway somehow
and when sometimes I cry
I’ll know I need to let it out

Wordless mouth

In absence of the truth we find
souls decay they wither and die
for spoken words no longer true
you have lied demons are soothed
in absence of the honest tongue
lips they curl and dry and break
you become the thing you hate
when everything caresses evil
truth becomes the lips upheaval
and then the world starts to decay
the souls have died they’re no saints
in absence of the truth we find
the purest souls no longer mind
and everything breaks down in time
the world becomes the wordless mouth

In my skin

I’ve been a lot of things
a lot of it ain’t good
thought I knew so much
but I really misunderstood
I strayed away from self
walked right into hell
let the devil take my hand
thought I was better than
been a bitch
and pretty fucking selfish
I’ve been a lot of things
been pretty fucking desperate
crawling on the walls
been begging for attention
I’ve embarrassed myself a lot
more than I’d like to admit
been on the wrong side of right
and said I’m okay with it
I’ve been a lot of things
but now I just wanna grow
move on from all that evil
like the glory in me show
remember that I love truth
and want to exemplify the good
I’ve been a lot of things
I’ll be a lot more
but this time I’m changing
changing that’s for sure
move like light through water
let God have His way
I’ve been a lot of things
I know I’ll never be a saint
but I can be much better now
now that I can admit
I wasn’t ever really the best person
I was just growing in my skin

I don’t wanna hate you

I don’t wanna hate you
but I think I do
I think I hate you more
than I’m allowed too
I could boil water
or cook a fucking egg
I’m so goddamn heated
I’m melting time and space
can’t put it in perspective
can’t put it in its place
I don’t wanna hate you
but in the end I do
I hate you more than ever
ever thought I’d have too
I don’t wanna bleed this way
I don’t want to feel
feel as though I’m drunk off rage
too high to even heal
but after all the shit you did
I’m higher than a cloud
burning like the sun
I don’t think there’s a way out
didn’t want to hate you
but I guess it’s clear I do
can’t put it in perspective
but I understand the mood

Leave Paris alone

I don’t want to cry
record a video and sigh
sigh while losing my mind
why do we want Paris to die?
Egging on suicide
keep reporting until she tries
let her go just like the truth
we don’t want facts
or even proof
I don’t want to be so upset
but this begging for suicide
I don’t get
why we want to see her fall
would her death pacify us all?
Would we feel like it is proof
facts and all the fucking truth
a guarantee her father was bad
that he in fact was a horrible man
would her suicide make it better?
Say goodbye to goodwill forever
let’s all just take a bow
it’s time that we knock out
waiting for a young woman to die
this ain’t the world we should invite
awaiting suicide
is this how we want to survive?
Placate and say we tried
no we tried to get her to die
to slit wrist and say goodbye
will we report the facts this time?
I don’t want to cry and repeat
but this reminds me of Brittney
so I’ll write what I do say
leave Paris alone
this isn’t okay.
Stop begging for suicide
for her to relapse and want to die
for a young woman to show
all signs of letting go
leave Paris alone
but we know the headlines won’t
so why don’t we all just admit
we want drama with no news in it.

We in this

We in a mess again
got too many
fucking compliments-
it’s ridiculous
how the hell we live
in this shiny
messed up world
of bliss
we all so fucking special
we know too much-
it’s hell though
to be so smart and able
but know nothing
in spades so
we all confused and angry
so frustrated and hating,
jealous of our best friends
hate our children and then
forget what responsibility
and real is
the truth a product of crazy
we all delusional,
that shits hazy
our eyes are fogged
but we’re lazy
in a mess again
this shiny world of bliss
we forget who we is
and fall again and again

The truth about honesty

I often told you everything
but you did not believe me
when I spun those pretty lies
oh I know they were deceiving
you did not think about
the words that came before
I explained very clearly
but you chose to ignore
I’ve been collecting stories
rewriting people as I need
told you you’d be sorry
if you got down on your knees
told you to be honest
truly all you needed to be
I often gave you advice
told you how to save
but you continued forward
and I continued my way
I explained it all quite clearly
I often told you what would come
but you did not believe me
and by the end I’ve already won.

A comped meal

We know all the monsters by name
we know all the things they’ve taken
we know the blood upon their hands
and the flesh between their teeth
we know how the monsters hunt
and we know just where they sleep
we know what all they want is
we know what makes them tick
we break down all the reasons
we won’t jump on it
we know all the monsters
we know them all by name
and when they kill again
we will remember today
that everybody knew
that bastard meant to kill
but when we leave the funeral
we excuse the bill.

Inside Lovato and the bad life coach

I am an artist,
an entrepreneur-
I’m creative
a fucking gift to the world.
I got ideas
and I show my tits on stage.
I feign authenticity
but make excuses out of pain.
I use my illness
and my addictions as a shield.
I use sobriety
as a theme to get a meal-
I am an artist
a philanthropist and more
I’ve got bipolar
and I wield it like a sword.
I’m not recovered
as that takes time and room to heal,
I am just a child
who doesn’t know what it means
to be real.
I’m just a celebrity,
adding titles to my name-
buying indulgences in vain,
and pretending mental illness is a game.
I am an artist
but that’s just an excuse
for being a child, for being rude
for being ill and relapsing too
I’m just too young to accept the truth,
it’s still my fault, but it’s also youth.

What do you mean by honesty?

Am I getting better?
Oh I sound that way it seems
if I answer hello
you interpret what it means
if I wear a smile
it says I’m not depressed
but because it makes you happier
it means I’ve never felt that stress
that if I say I’ve eaten
you take it to mean enough
so when I am a corpse
I guess you’ll say you didn’t know
because even though I told you
you never heard the words
never actually listened
or read a single verse.