I think it's hillarious... or at least a gloomy humor. in the way i can strive so hard for something. life teases me throws it so close to until it's just nearly in my grasp then rips it away. after all i go through. It's so pointless to keep trying. but that tiny amount of hope burried in a hole deep in my stomache forces me into acts of hopeless romanticism in the cycle of a breaking heart, a shattered dream. a lost memory. but what do i got to show for it? just the crimson being drained from me. or the tears i silently cry invisible to the naked eye. maybe you can't see my pain, maybe cause i hide it so well., for the sake of your happiness. I am the lost. I am the used. I am the broken. I am threw....