we used to hold hands and i would call you baby.
now, when you come into the store where i work you only glare at me in a way that makes me even more uncomfortable than i thought i could ever be in my dirty black apron. i just grin and wave, and try to convince myself that it doesn't matter.
but it does.
i still love you.
it's odd counting the months that we've been apart, and you've been with him, and you've hated me.
it's odd to remember the one evening after school when i held your hand and you told me, "this feels right." but all i could think about was how wrong it was.
all i know now is that i feel like a jerk because i know
you can put that sandwich in my hand, but you can't make me eat it.
you can drag me by the ear to our destination, but you can't make me enjoy it.
i wish everyone i hated was as ugly as you.
not everybody you meet is ugly.
they aren't all beautiful, either.
"because this world isn't fair!"
and neither are any of the other worlds.
but i can find peace in your sunflower-eyes.
hold me back from what i want
and kick me in the ass
so that i land right before what i dont.
"this is not one of your little books where everything ends up perfect and everyone ends up happy with the bad guys put away for forever! from what
No, it isn't a word. but to me it has meaning, like some things in life never will. also it is long, and lasts on the tip of my tongue, just like some things in my life never will.
Love was supposed to be golden and amazing and worth it. You made everything so dark brown and dreadful and empty for me. In this real life, in this real heart, i know that i will never love anyone the way that i loved you. You were so fake and undeserving, yet i can't feel anything for anyone other than you.
And here i am, using lines off my favorite songs. i never thought anything would amount to this, this feeling that maybe all hope is
I keep forgetting everything we were about.
At first, it was impossible. An entire year of your life can't just be forgotten in a moment; but over time it's become easier to forget than to remember. It's been really easy to see you lately, and to smile and say something nice. I find it nice how you've stopped berating me with nasty comments and you can stand for me to exist again.
Then came along this... "tumor."
I can't bring myself to believe it. I read and reread the text in my inbox, and it just doesn't seem real. This girl was my bestfriend, and then one of the best and worst things i've ever loved. It has taken me three months to smi
i remember seeing something absolutely hideous shining through your eyes ;
i know now that it was only your soul -
pleading to burst through and soak the whole world in ugly.
0313 where i see you
i see you in second block, advanced physical science. Richards is the teacher.
in the row nearest the windows.
you're boyfriend sits five seats back, and you're positioned in the desk in front of him.
everyone is busy with their chapter twelve worksheets, so no one takes notice as Richards strides across the room to open the blinds.
you wince at the sunlight - newly arrived from behind a group of friendly, puffy clouds.
you shoot a di
the sky can forgive me for not looking up today.
the little boy with sad eyes and no ice cream cone can forgive me.
that dog at the kennel that i never adopted can forgive me.
ms. walton can forgive me for mispelling 'paraphrase'.
my feet can forgive me after a rough day.
that turtle i never bought and never named can forgive me.
ivey can forgive me for never calling her last weekend.
mom can forgive me for being moody and stubborn.
the bum at the park with an empty cup can forgive me.
the gentlemen at arby's whom i bumped into can forgive me.
god can forgive me for cursing him and hating him and blaming him and ignoring him for yea
i remember that, at first, i was scared.
i remember your soft lips, caressing and making my skin tingle all over and my body shiver.
i know your gnashing teeth, nipping and letting the blood seep slowly from the tiny wounds.
i remember your fingertips, wandering and feeding me the joys of sorrow.
i know your nails, clawing and clinging and making it sting for days.
i remember your voice, smooth and soothing and bringing me closer.
i know your words, sharp and cold like tiny, angry razor blades.
i remember who you were, pretty and fragile like an early spring flower.
i know who you are now, dark and deceitful and so full of hate;
There are millions of him;
He says it's not him /
that really, all in all, he is a good man and always wants to be better;
that it is his ancient, wretched soul that writhes and scratches from within /
and that sometimes it wears a spot thin, and causes tears and flaws in himself.
this leaves me awkwardly confused;
ready to admit that i am much the opposite.
And today and tomorrow and every day afterwards,
i have found that i will be better yet.
my spirit and soul and every thing about me thrives for my best ;
and my drive screams that my best must be better yet.
my heart is big and soft and yet strong -
so strong that it
So i closed my eyes -
and it all seeped in,
sort of one-by-one,
like raindrops landing randomly
on your skin, sending a chill up -
and then back down -
It all hit me rather slowly,
as i listened to the tears streaming down the faces of one hundred and plus people;
as i listened to their attempts to suck all the sad and grief and tears back into their faces - their attempts all in vein.
this was getting to me.
i knew the face of this boy whom they spoke of,
i knew his voice.
i knew his laugh,
the wrinkles that were already forming around his eyes from laughing so often.
this boy, sixteen, who was loved
i remember you still.
you showed up so innocently in my dreams.
you looked just like a acquaintance of mine...
and you wouldn't say a thing.
when i first met you i told you my name,
and your eyes met mine as if to say, "hello".
i told you i would call you Hazy,
because you weren't quite here.
you smirked, and my heart exploded.
people don't look at you the same, i guess.
they see the beauty and how you hold yourslef right,
but they don't understand why you say nothing.
there have been a few drops of blood shed in your name,
but all that's stopped now.
they got the point;
i wasn't going to put up with it.
sometimes when you w
this is a dream;
i am bound to it.
in my unconscious i manage to
forcefully writhe in it.
the time comes nearer;
i follow my thoughts and hope that they lead to something worth while.
they tell me to turn away
but i cannot.
the tears that have failed
to physically appear for so long
are switched on by the footsteps
that bring you nearer.
you embrace me and i feel my hope drain
for you do not mean it like i do.
this is comfort for my wrongs;
my regrets, my faults.
i did this all and yet you comfort me.
i do not hear your words -
only, your concern.
how you manage to still care hurts me.
with nothing to help express
i have to admit that i broke and i swore i never would.
i swore you would be the first and the last and all that was in between -
but i broke.
i broke so violently.
i was on the top of this amazing mountain whose name i can't recall.
we had built it though, and we had wanted it all along.
you kept telling me that you loved me and i kept on believing you.
that one day when i verbalized the question that had been trembling in the back of my mind all along.
i verbalized it and made it real.
i wondered it out loud; and your face.
oh god, your face.
you were terrified.
but of what?
that i would regret?
that i would
i took a look over my shoulder at you, twice.
not once, but twice.
once more than i would have ever before.
i could feel my heart aching to reach out,
but i denied it the satisfaction.
i took a look at you once more and i knew
that this could end badly.
i can never be worthy enough,
and you'll turn me away.
in a way, you did.
you turned me away.
i'm still glancing at you more than i would,
more than i should.
i still hope that you'll say the first word
so that i have an excuse to say hi.
you have left one more strand of gently woven memory
in my web of thought.
you are one more thing i think about every night
before i can fa
i'll catch you looking.
i'll catch the scowl on your face,
and i'll watch the jealousy almost knock you over.
it's times like these when all the past memories of us
twirl inside my head
and i see you some place else.
1014 - where i see you
i see you sitting on a lawn -
in the middle of a perfect square of green
in front of one of those perfect square houses
set in a perfect, square neighborhood.
i see you here because it's the way you always described our house.
not that we ever owned a house.
but you always described the little, perfect, square place that you saw inside your head.
i always wanted a cat.
you always wanted a d
it bothers you.
all of the heavens receive the news
and suddenly the clouds rattle loose;
the rains begins to descend -
because it bothers you to no end.
1016 where i see you
i see you in a parking lot -
which is funny because you always said it was dumb;
"hanging out in a parking lot is stupid. -
hanging out at the mall is stupid -
hanging out at arby's is stupid -
hanging out at the park is stupid."
anything that involved people or fun was always stupid.
yeah well, fuck you.
no one ever invited you anyways.
the funny thing about you being in the parking lot
is that it's the parking lot of a church.
yeah, well why the h
i woke up way too early,
i gagged myself while brushing my teeth.
my hair looked like crap,
i couldn't find the shirt i wanted to wear.
my moms used all of the hot fucking water.
i forgot my phone,
and had to come all the way back.
i was early for school,
and i couldn't find my favorite song on that cd.
did i mention it was raining?
i didn't get enough sleep,
so i was tired and i tripped.
i felt dumb for coming to see you at your car,
because you didn't give a shit.
oh yeah, and my chap stick melted.
i have to admit,
i let you in.
you broke the little bit of me
that had yet to break.
i had to wear my stupid glasses all damn
no, not from my chest.
do not pounce and prey like a beast;
you'll only lie cold and beaten on the floor again,
and i will not pick you up the next time.
you keep your hands shoved in your pocket,
and you keep walking.
you keep walking past his hands and hers twisted together into putrid, lusty knots.
you feel the deep, hot, liquid rush to your head,
and you swallow it down.
no, you can't let anyone see your eyes, or your glowing pink skin.
you mustn't let anyone see inside you;
not into the labyrinth of broken everything.
you can't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore;
you have to be cold and solid;
distant and tasteless.
that sigh escapes me and i say something about death. a smile escapes my lips.
i've driving down the highway, killers playing in the background, and i'm not going anywhere.
i put my foot to the brake as the light up ahead shifts from green to yellow.
this feeling is so new - taking advantage of the beat in my heart and the beat in this song and just feeling free. the windows are cracked slightly and this corridor goes on for at least three more miles before it ends. i'm at peace. it swells up inside me until it feels almost like pride; i begin to blush. i'm so alone in this car, i'm so alone on this road, i'm so alone in what i see, what
I should have told you how much I love the way
your fingers glide up my hips, and my worries
are swept off and to the linoleum floor .
I should have told you how much I feel like I didn't
get the chance to kiss you enough today,
and how my bones ache when i lay on the mattress,
and the warmth usually radiating for your fingertips,
and your collar bones and your knee caps is the only
thing I can think about as I hug my thighs and shiver.
I should have told you how wonderful you are
at being a million times more wonderful than
anyone I've ever met in my entire life.
I should have told you how much my entire life is nothing
to the illiterate dolt who posted this:
"No, he uses autotune cause it helps him sing. Autotune means automatically putting your voice in tune. "
you're grammar is horrible, and i know what AutoTune is.
i also know the difference between AutoTune, a Talk Box, and a Vocoder. I happen to have access to all three.
and quite frankly, shut the fuck up.
i was trying to sleep and this popped into my head
i was trying to sleep and this popped into my head
sometimes no isn't enough.
sometimes you have to scream it.
sometimes you have to assert it with your fists.
sometimes you have to prove it with a hurtful word.
sometimes you have to carve it into the back of their hand.
sometimes you have to ram it into their head through their ears.
sometimes you have to stitch it into the underside of their eyelids.
when everything else fails to work;
sometimes you have to mean it.
brisingr in the inheritance "trilogy" was supposed to be the last one.
but christopher paolini couldn't fit all of the ending into one book.
now, brisingr is the third book of the inheritance "cycle".
i didn't know that until i got to the end of brisingr.
i was pissed off!