I got a shelf full of memories bookmarked with bad judgement.
It reminds me of the time quiet added to something.
It wasn't my intention to get caught inside the spin,
but never knew the consequence that all the still air would bring.
Baited my breath with gasoline, struck a match,
found comfort in burning everything I ever had.
I'm sorry, for every single case
of my generation's good intentions horribly misplaced.
It's so strange knowing life ain't what you make it
to think you took the road less traveled, find out your mistaken
to forget the lines between real and fake relations
then lose the guide on how to find all your limitations.
I tested the water, and I got stuck
as the pieces of myself I forgot about sunk.
My tongue ain't as lenient as I'd like to allow,
so I'll slit my own throat if it helps get all the words out.

I was meant to live with my lips bound tightly
but it's hard trying to walk the lines that my palms have assigned me.
I used to think that I lived on my own accord.
It's just so strange the word "past" can mean to move forward.
These are just the rules that I choose to adhere to,
watch my memories come alive inside the rearview,
and even so, it'll never be enough
I remember the day silence lost its Midas Touch.

I used to two step with the devil on the regular,
fate grabbed my hand before she pulled me into bed with her,
silence forced the words straight back into my lungs,
and these hushed lips kissed death with a lot of tongue.
I know the taste it was tattooed on my lips,
afraid the ink would never dry. It always made my stomach sick.
I should've known before the warning bell sounded
I would never get anywhere throwing glass at stone houses,
but I did, and I followed the pieces to my shadow:
the reflection of the physical, the minimum, the shallow
parts of me that breathe and breathe but never could define the
essence of the messages that I have learn through life
and there I found it: all the light that cast the shade
blinded by the brilliance that outlined my battered shape.
and I know that that lesson will last
regret is a promise to yourself that you've learned from the past.