Brightside.

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You run out of reasons, and words to believe in and you look at yourself in disbelief.

You no longer had patience to wait any longer, so you screamed.

Memories started fading, and it never went the way you wanted it to be, you were mad.

You always reach when you look at the sky and it always seems to go farther away, you told life to stop playing the sick jokes.

You locked yourself in your room and cried for hours, how could God be so cruel?

You started to dream about how things should've been, could've been,

You dream once, you dream twice, but how long can you dream till reality pinches you?

You look around for things still worth living for...

Could it be that spark of hope in your mother’s eyes?

Could it be the fake laughs your blood puts on for you?

Could it be that sun that rises every morning?

Could it be the things you still got to do before you’re long gone?

When your world falls apart, you sit there, with your hands tied. And weep about how things don't go the way you want them to.

We run out of words to carry on, but we always have an essay to write about how things go wrong.

We only see what we want to see, they say it's a glass half empty or half full, how come you always look at the half empty?

How come you always think about the bad times?

It's not only you, it's her, it's him, it's her.

And it's true when they say everybody hurts, everybody cries.

How could you know how happy feels like if you’ve never cried?

How would you know about hellos, if you've never said a goodbye?