It's lost in the unworldly neon blonde lighting, the walls lined with books every way I turn, the glances of strangers bouncing off me because they never really look, never really see. I'm wide-eye, terrified, gasping for air, and I wind my way around the building, down stair cases, around corners, trying to avoid you, trying to get away.

And I say, abuse; it's the purest form of beauty 'cause that's what you taught me, that's what's real, and I'll never stop believing in reality no matter how broken it gets. Dreaming, it's for losers, pieces of shit like I am, and you said you could only love me when I am bruised and beaten and lying on the floor, 'cause that's when you feel strong, when you know you're a man, a good father like the one you had.

It's screaming with no voice and drowning inside every minute you're near me, and I don't want to keep living when it only means dying with every breath. It's crying myself to sleep and waking with my mouth tasting of salt, wondering why she had to leave me and why you have to treat me like this, and oh, oh, oh,

I really need to know if death is the only way out.