i hope you see the syntax errors.

somehow, one thing always stays with me,
besides the shaking valleys in the depth of what makes me.
i've gone through shit, and it's sure not yours, and i'm sure as hell not yet free
but it stays that i still want the world to see.

no matter how much i embrace nihilistic truths,
i keep coming to this conclusion, that i just want a "you"
i can fall down hills, and scrape my skin, and even die a bit
but still, i'll always want to be a hit.

i see that it's cheating, how i use these simple words
it's an insult to poetry-- see look, "birds"
but i've got to use this loophole, to get to my own path
because without this sweet discovery, i've got no desire to get past.

moving on'd be nothing to me, without a future to reach
one that meant something to me, so i'd appreciate the breach
of falling to pieces periodically
so much that i don't see freedom as of plausibility

so i'll keep on trying, to use these cheating rhymes
and finding golden linings, between the silver lines
rely on vagueness of beauty, and manipulation of time
to see this world as something not priced a dozen per dime

i'll never think i'm good enough, but maybe some will still think i'm great
at least i can get some love, even if it ain't
i'll pretend that i've been through shit, and hope that i will go
but for now i can only story-tell, and hope that i'll need hope

cause for the time being, life's not too much a thrill
i haven't tasted mischief, i haven't made one kill

but my head's taken me into traps, and maybe that will count
for something, cause for now, i don't how i want to count