break even

when a heart is broken, no it don’t break even-

its like a vase with cracks on it, you wanna keep it because the vase itself is so pretty, but water leaks through the cracks and eventually it’ll soak up the bottom.

something just cannot be even, ever again.

the invisible emptiness hits me harder than anything with a physical weight.. and knowing whats missing is somewhere that has no traits of me, somewhere that belongs to somebody else’s.
what’s worse is that this image of emptiness is imprinted in my mind and is easily copied and pasted onto other things, bringing me more misery, out of physically nothing.

to break even would just separate our paths even further apart, because we have no clue that we're not on the same track, and breaking even doesn't solve the problem.

when you see how the bottom is soaked, it makes what’s underneath the glass smudged and ugly .. no it ain’t pretty at all. by that time no one cares how pretty the vase is, just because the cracks are not fixed earlier.

sometimes i’d rather be part of what i don’t believe in, ‘cause then i won’t feel so much from what i am so indulged in, to the point that i wonder if im fooling myself.

i’m just a miserable fool, overdramatizing nothing all day.