Hi-Strung She's so unsung, High-strung, With a broken back and bitter tongue She's singing happy songs, But with a terrible frown And with a little laugh and a tiny grin, She'll take your love and shove it back in.

scribble: pretend you liked to pretend that you were a friend, when, really, you were simply my foe. and when our minds would collide i’d glimpse a little inside, and frankly, it hurt quite a bit. because hearts are strange, and they often change, so nothing is ever what it seems.

weathered how far have you wandered, child throughout this blackest night? how far have you traveled, girl throughout this darkest deep? your smile stays polite and your face betrays no plight but your eyes are the difference for they show how much you weep through silent nights and broken thought yes, the eyes will have told your tale.

pumping blood did you really want to blur those lines or did you simply miss the signs of a heart that was about to burst?

paper-hearts they say that beauty is only skin deep but your face sliced through my dreams like a very sharp edge of paper cutting through my softest seams for it seemed just like a trap when your heart reached out to mine for paper hearts are fragile things that tend to trail a bloody line.