I drank holy water and my sins were gone.

They say the pastor is the father of the church, but then where does God fit into it?

I don't remember the last time I attended church for more than an hour.

I don't remember the last time I attended church.

People fall in love, and we got high off the words we almost used.

Such a pity we bite our tongue at the most tender moments.

I bite yours and you bite mine, because we both are weak by pretending to be stronger than the other.

Your ignorance is bliss, but you use it against yourself.

There's a reason why I'm bitter towards return missionaries.

There's a reason why I'm bitter towards the church.

There's a reason I'm bitter towards myself.

I can't feel things anymore.

My mind has turned every emotion off and I couldn't be more grateful.

I take the prettiest pills I shove down my throat and that's where my day begins.

I get a lump in my throat and I've turned into its bitch, but everyone is always run by something. I watched you cry and felt nothing but the blood pumping through my veins.

I've turned into a robot controlled by whitey himself.

The man has me by the neck, and I respond with, "Yes sir".

I can't think poetically, but for right now that's okay Because life is mean and it's not unfair, because it's unfair to everyone which makes it fair.

I think I may have gone crazy, but I wouldn't know what sanity feels like.

I can't listen to the songs I used to love because they still remind me of you and I can't feel the things I used to feel and I should feel sad about something, but I can't even do that.

They say music heals the soul but they don't mention it also breaks it because emotions are the trigger to the gun that we trick ourselves into pulling when no one's looking.

You did this to me, I did it to you, but we can't change the past.

I don't like you.

Or him.

Or the other guy, or his friend, or the kid down the street and I'm not even sure I like my family.

Why are manufactured flowers more pretty than the real ones we pick fresh from the ground?

Humans don't want real and fresh, because those might die. No, they want fake that lasts forever because with risk there is failure.

I watched you puff your first cigarette and saw nothing but black smoke trickling out of your lungs and terror in your eyes. I left because I've never seen anything worse than an addiction being born.

I met a boy with glasses and a lisp and nothing could be cuter than him.

I don't want to talk to him, because I can feel corruption in my soul ready to leak into his and I'm not sure I'm ready to ruin another one.

I lay down at night thinking of what it'd be like to be inside of your head, only so I can take myself out of it and move on because you are the canoe and I'm simply the water that sinks you when a storm brews.

Maybe someday I'll learn how to tie the first half of my poems into the ending but that day is not today.

I have my reasons for hating on certain rm's, but I also have reasons as why I hate pooping in other people's bathrooms.

I guess everything is just an opinion that society invented and mass produced.