I’ve played with the thought of run

I’ve played with the thought of running away from what haunts me most
Or maybe just ending the story short
Either would be better than this place that I’m at now
I’ve played this thought over passing it back and forth between my fingers
Enough to make them raw through the skin
Cutting deep into my bones and hitting the one thing that I’ve held through these long seasons….my hope
While everything’s come and gone, that was the one thing that kept me from giving up on going on
Like the times when friends and family tell you “You’re going to do great things”
But this actually held some sense of meaning in its phrase
Unlike the empty nonsense that’s said to comfort you with the fact that your youth has expired
Some would say it’s wrong and that I’m the liar, but you’ve got a feeling crawling deep under your skin that tells you right
Tells you that this plan that’s been laid out for you isn’t etched in stone
Isn’t written to be declared to the generations below
It’s a feeling that’s nestled itself deep in my awkwardly long bones
Leaching off the hope that let me endure this tragedy that we like to call a home
It wasn’t always a tragedy, and there weren’t always holes in the walls where holes should never be
There was a time when pictures hung from every free inch of the walls
Sporting landscapes and memories that stretch down the entire hall
Showing the life that used to roam freely and the love that came endlessly
But fear is the one thing that led to it’s destruction
This disillusion of fear led us to dismantle what we had worked so hard to build
What we had given so much to find
And within the blink of an eye, or whatever you prefer to tell time...it was gone
This home that had birthed a tragedy, had finally given way to its own

And yet I still search for way of how to recreate that home
No matter how many pictures I tilt or how many days I cross off in the month of September
I can’t recreate what we had
No matter how many walls you paint or pictures you hang
It’ll never be the same as it once was
It’s like I found myself stuck living in the past holding onto anything that brings some sort of comfort, or at least won’t bring any pain
And you’ve got that pain wrenched deep under your skin
Crawling into any crack and crevice, finding any way to get in
And that void that you’ve got that you feel in your limbs
It can’t be cured with any pill or needle
The things that you use to numb the gnawing bite until it fades into a dull tick
No...only something greater than yourself can fill that void that you’ve been trying to satisfy for years
That void is the same pain that’s made itself home in my awkwardly long bones
I wish I had the guts to confront what haunts me the most
I wish I had the ability to take a chance without the fear of falling
But I think I’ve finally discovered what keeps me up at night when I’m all alone
That’s the pain that’s made it’s home in these God forsaken bones

Results (Indonesian) 1:

Saya telah bermain dengan pikiran untuk melarikan diri dari apa menghantuiku palingAtau mungkin hanya berakhir cerita pendekBaik akan lebih baik daripada tempat ini bahwa I am at sekarangAku sudah bermain pemikiran ini selama melewati bolak-balik antara jari-jari sayaCukup untuk membuat mereka mentah melalui kulitMemotong ke dalam tulang dan memukul satu hal yang aku sudah menahan melalui ini lama musim... harapan sayaSementara semuanya telah datang dan pergi, itu adalah satu hal yang membuatku menyerah pada terjadiSeperti masa ketika teman dan keluarga memberitahu Anda "Anda akan melakukan hal-hal besar"Namun ini benar-benar diadakan beberapa pengertian makna dalam frase yangTidak seperti omong kosong kosong yang dikatakan untuk menghibur Anda dengan fakta bahwa pemuda telah berakhirBeberapa orang akan mengatakan itu salah dan bahwa saya pembohong, tapi Anda punya perasaan merangkak jauh di bawah kulit Anda yang memberitahu Anda tepatMemberitahu Anda bahwa rencana ini yang telah disusun untuk Anda tidak terukir di batuTidak ditulis dinyatakan kepada generasi di bawah iniItu adalah perasaan bahwa telah terletak sendiri jauh di tulangku canggung panjangPencucian off dengan harapan bahwa saya menderita tragedi ini yang kita sukai untuk memanggil rumahItu tidak selalu sebuah tragedi, dan tidak selalu lubang di dinding yang mana lubang tidak bolehAda waktu ketika gambar tergantung dari setiap inci bebas dari tembokOlahraga lanskap dan kenangan yang peregangan menyusuri lorong seluruhMenunjukkan kehidupan yang digunakan untuk bebas berkeliaran dan cinta yang datang tanpa hentiBut fear is the one thing that led to it’s destructionThis disillusion of fear led us to dismantle what we had worked so hard to buildWhat we had given so much to findAnd within the blink of an eye, or whatever you prefer to tell time...it was goneThis home that had birthed a tragedy, had finally given way to its ownAnd yet I still search for way of how to recreate that homeNo matter how many pictures I tilt or how many days I cross off in the month of SeptemberI can’t recreate what we hadNo matter how many walls you paint or pictures you hangIt’ll never be the same as it once wasIt’s like I found myself stuck living in the past holding onto anything that brings some sort of comfort, or at least won’t bring any painAnd you’ve got that pain wrenched deep under your skinCrawling into any crack and crevice, finding any way to get inAnd that void that you’ve got that you feel in your limbsIt can’t be cured with any pill or needleThe things that you use to numb the gnawing bite until it fades into a dull tickNo...only something greater than yourself can fill that void that you’ve been trying to satisfy for yearsThat void is the same pain that’s made itself home in my awkwardly long bonesI wish I had the guts to confront what haunts me the mostI wish I had the ability to take a chance without the fear of fallingBut I think I’ve finally discovered what keeps me up at night when I’m all aloneThat’s the pain that’s made it’s home in these God forsaken bones