monthsaprilthe month of "hello, nice to meet you."septemberthe month of "i love you."octoberthe month of betrayal.november-februarythe months of pain.
film reelsi keep reliving the past.let's rewind to the beginning.fast forward through the boring parts.keep going, keep going.pause- this is where it gets good.(or should i say terribly awful?)slow it down. slower, slower.here comes the part where we fall in love.isn't that just so sweet?six scenes later you can't commit and I can't believe it.please speed up, this scene makes me nauseous.what? the VCR is broken? it can't be.you are with her and i am gasping for air.this isn't happening, but it is.seven scenes drag by and it's now present day.i'm sitting in my room replaying this tapeon a continuous reel.The tape ends and my mind endsand my longing to be loved ends.and i rate this movie a stab in the heart.
i seriously hate you.you are the kind of person thatmakes me want tofall down sixteen flights of stairs.and break every single bonein my body just so i can feel.
we once were one note.i'm finding it hard to sleepand hard to thinkand hard to make my lungs goup and downand hard to make my heartpound underneath my thin skin.my eyes are glassyand my mind is frozenand my lungs are petrifiedand my heart is heavy.sticks and stonesmay possibly break my bonesbut words will always hurt me.your word will always hurt me.
sheshe was happywhen she was lying in a deserted fieldwith only the windwhispering in her earsand the sweet grasses ticklingher cheeks.the sparrows wereher friendsand the ladybugs werethe only ones who listenedto her.they were the only ones she needed.
head on a platteryou are scraping your head across the pavement and i am dragging you along by a string right behind the heels of my bare feet. the blood from your temporal lobe is leaving a lovely trail of vermilion behind you. too bad that it's raining and the blood is getting washed away. its seeps into the grass, the dirt, the decayed bodies, and whatever else is rotting away. it's too bad that no one can hear your screams over the thunder, lightning, and my laugh.it's a shame that it's all a dream and i wake up with a grim smile on my face and a feeling of satisfaction. you think i'm innocent, an angel. you are sadly mistaken because all i want is your head on a silver platter, your arms in a wooden chest, your feet in my medicine cabinet, and your organs in my washing machine. sure, go ahead and keep telling me that i am your sweetie pie, darling dearest, baby. oh shut the hell up you liar, your pants are on fire.