JacktheRipr had to be changed . So hello again. But inside is another CP fight song.

Sorry for the cofusion. Heres another poem so I don't waste this thread.

You were a house on fire, & I couldn't understand why. Burn me all down to the ground, you said, the fire is on the inside, flames dancing like ghosts, behind the windows, pain jumping from the walls. You want to keep this private, I can see that, but you can't ask that of me, we've only just met. I said we need hope now more than ever before, do you believe it? The answer was silence I took it as a no. We all want to be normal anyways we all want to be somewhere else than where we live, but that's not reality, it's just point of view. Let's not talk about the weather & whether or not there's really rain in the clouds, unless you want to know if I feel the same as you. It's more measuring up than just wasting time, but time is not on our side, you're burning through rain would only be a temporary fix & there's just no place right now for cute ironies like that .
We all write songs about life, we just sing them different. You sing the words but you don't know the song, & you expect us all to sing along? How selfish. The lengths that we go to, to put so much distance between us is staggering. You’re burning alive with stress & life both hands in flames trying to hold the fire inside. Drop & roll repeat line for emphasis. I’ll repeat it & repeat it until you believe it. You're gonna be ok! say it to me. The answer is still silence I’ll take it as a maybe. I can't decide if I should knock down your door or on it. Say the word & I’ll take an axe to your heart or a pin prick cut right through the dark, let it spill out the contents, on our knees sorting through the remnants. Pour out your hate in my hands, I’ll let em slip through my fingers. & this is for you, this is for the times that we only listen long enough to know the other person we’re talking to has the same opinions we do. For when we’re burning inside, for when we’re trying to hide that fact. This is for the scalps that we went after, to be only the best dressed, to scrape another notch on our belts, add another feather to our headress. I want to be the bigger man for you, but I can’t take all this truth. I'm trying to kick the habit here, but these track marks are 100 proof. Burn me all down to the ground, you said. I’ll kick through your ashes, hope they sober up my head