Camden made me cry.

It's ridiculous how often I've cried and found myself screaming to this song, trying to convince myself that you no longer are what I want. Trying to convince myself that you are banished from my mind but I lie to myself, I'm the biggest liar there is. So there I was crying on the toilet, in a pub in Camden the place where you told me you live.

I tried with both hands and both feet to hold on to myself, the devils you've released in my head are unbearable.

All I wanted was to run as fast as I could, and catch that train under water far away from everything that reminds me of you.

You told me I was beatifull but that could be a lie.

I still, every day feel like you have stolen something from me, you've taken something away from me what I cherished. Mean mean man, you've maimed this little blonde girl's heart, all the good I believed in you destroyed.

It frightens me that the gaping wound in my chest controls my life. I'm so naive that I still believe in the goodness in him, I'm so naive that I make up every day one thousands of reasons why. I have to believe everything he said was no lie, I must believe that he spoke the truth otherwise I rather just lay down and die.

Uncertainty hurts and love does'nt exist, but my heart hurts. I'm desperately looking for a ticket out. 'Cause even though I tell myself the lies and I oblige myself to believe them ... as long as he is this silent being in my life I guess I should know better.

I'm being punished.

I MIGHT AS WELL LAY DOWN AND DIE, 'CAUSE I AIN'T LEAVING HERE ALIVE.

My fingers are cold.

She gave him every last part of tenderness, she gave him everything she had, she was young and blond. He didn't care to hang around, smoked his last cigarette, stuck his tongue for one last time in her throat and extinguished the fire in his heart.

He left her without looking back, chained to shame, disgust and heartache she stayed behind. Crying like a baby, praying to the dull knife she clings in her hands. The love she once drank so greedily, now merely is a choking.

She fills my mirror with the face of the beaten girl, it's an ugly display. But in the end, I should have known that a damned soul as yours can't care about a little girl who wants to caress your heart.

Two days ago I had a dream. He was laying beside me in bed, his hands stroked my face, the tears moistened my pillow. His soft hands that stroked my face appeared to be nothing but dirty, dead, broken bones. They scraped the skin of my cheeks and cut my tongue out of my mouth. He left the bed, dumped me in my bloody state, I wonder why he tortures my mind so? The silence is empty and my lips are dry, his smell has left my bed.

They tell me it isn't me, it's you. But I believe it's me because of you. I don't want you anymore, but craving you I will always do.