More than once; everytime.

"Writing in your diary while you're talking, you've managed to let conversations slip through the pages. Hands smudged with ink, and your head is in two places at once. Leather bound and withering away, losing interest from seeing it every single day. Don't you want something new? Though you've invested so much into what you've made. You know it would last if you let it, you just don't like how it looks. So what's more important to you now-a-days? You have a split, so will you separate the binding? You use it to feel whole again, and it starts to crack, with the worst timing. This one's glowing, and you're looking. Everyone knows it, but they've all used it. To ignore the hearse, and give in to what they'll say, is it worth it? I have my way with words and when it's read, they know. If it's read too much, then they don't read enough. Do I take the understanding or aesthetics, do I want contempt or discredit?"

This is one more sleepless night because we...

"Car shut off, now I can't go home. Push it from behind, down the side of the road. It's a quarter past two and just below freezing, clouds of disappointment surround my breathing. Why can't I get a break? How long will this take? Will I be poor for the rest of my life, or will I relive every mistake. Maybe it's what I'm not, and now I have to pay. I wish you were in the backseat, so I could have my way. I'm cold and my phone just died, looks like I won't be talking to you tonight."

Well you just sit there.

"People live their lives with the purpose to upset me I feel at times. When they speak their mind, or express their emotions, it always finds its way to ruin me from the inside out. Who you're draped on this year, and who you're falling for the next, I still manage to fall apart. It's who've you met, and the person you've grown to become. It's the tired eyes I've grew weary of after seeing the same old, I would kill for something new. I would kill to have my name mouthed with the intent of good. I'm not one many seem to want to mention, I would kill for that type of attention."

J'accuse.

"Hanging from the rafters with the noose around your neck, they're surrounded at your feet dragging you down by your legs. You've surfaced and they climb, they rip apart whatever you once wore. You're being defiled and they pick you apart from the inside-out. You don't know how it feels, you won't ever know what it's like to be that violated ever again. They all claw at your flesh because they're animals. You were falsely accused and put to death, and yet, you'll never face the end of it all. You're now the trash on the side of the street. Exposed bones, your body has nowhere to go, and you are left alone."

I'd say July.

"I like the nothingness of a Carolina, one of those times where you want to sit with the a/c on all day. When you walk to the store to get what you want, and don't really want to go back out. A pools a luxury, when the beach is not in reach. You see the heat rise from the pavement, you see the palm trees and you know you're not at home anymore. You let the sun settle under your skin, and you let the cool breezes catch up to you because you don't let this type of satisfaction go to waste. Who needs a place to stay when you could be outside all day? It's something I need, I want to be caught up in the boring midst of everyday life, while doing nothing at all. I want to watch the cars go by while I have nowhere to really go. It's a permanent summer day that I want to relive over and over."

My god, when will it end?

"Dead friends, I have dead friends. The kind of ones you never get back again. I can't really say goodbye, or hello, because I haven't left."

The nights get so long and cold, the fewer places we can go.

"I'm having myself at my best, this current moment being one of them. I'm proud of what I've done, and so ashamed as well. Do I have good intentions anymore? Are you who I think you are? Or will I just make you who I want to be? You don't seem to understand that I can't really grasp who I am. It feels so great, and I feel so wrong, I can never be one with myself. It's a crooked way of life, one that makes you wish you never lived again. One that makes you realize you can't live any other way. My actions are the glue that binds me from where I really want to go. There is not too much direction because I've lead everyone else to follow. Where the road stops and you're just not good enough, you pull out and go to sleep. When the sheets are stained dry and you wake up in her bed, you get dressed and drive far away. Take the highway as fast as the car can go so you can try to catch up with the self you want to be. No gas can ever take back who you were."

Strange days.

"There are times when I want to rip apart my face, and then there are times I wish to not. I usually settle for resting my face inbetween my hands because I'm far too drained to move. These are the moments that weight me down, that wear me down, that maim me. The words speak louder than the actions when you're weak, you only hurt yourself, and you have no one to protect. You're your own, friend or enemy, you are your own. Head swimming with thoughts of nothing, the white noise deafens you, and you just want a way out. Claw your way inside and pry for an end, you're only hurting yourself all over again."

It's really laughable ah-ha ha-ha-ha ha.

"There's nothing clever in the way you act, the things you say are all rehashed. You trade off pre-written lines with one another, and you claim your own. How can you be yourself when you can not speak for yourself? When every other line you speak is from some other, far more creative than you. The more you listen, and the more you read, will not make you anymore like who you want to be. A hardhearted fan sits in the balcony, eyes filled with passion as they watch the way he moves, and the way he sounds from afar. This is not you, you excuse yourself from it all because you think you understand. Though with a head so big, and a mind so narrow, there's no one to tell you different. And I'm sorry, I truly am, for you having to be the way you are. I'm sorry, I truly am."

Hello, it's me. You shouldn't be expecting anybody.

"Attention's what I seek, attention's what I crave. It's what I need and you need to give it to me. I love someone with their head in their hands because I make them weak. I love to break people down to the point where they'll grovel at my feet. I see nothing wrong in my actions, because I don't care. I just need someone to unwind at because I suffocate from time to time, being so wrapped up in myself. I'm not yours, never was. You may of thought so, but that's your own fault. I am myself, and I can be anyone's if I please. I'll leave you confused and frustrated, but you brought that on yourself. You can stay, you can leave, I just know that you can never live without me."

The root of all...

"My stomach sinks when I think, and I lose all appetite. You managed to bring everything down, whether you're here or you're home, it never stops.You're the reason why I can't quite sleep right. You're every single excuse for why I'll stay in every single night. Everything I called my own, I gave to you in one way or another, you may not have it, but you know you took it. You could of gave it away, because you didn't want to hold it. You could of forgot about rent and had to of sold it. I'm lost, and you're blind, when we're together we're wasting our time. We'll talk later."

Pacific Standard Time.

"Will you be my vampire, doll?
We'll stay up all night, and sleep through the dawning light.
Once bitten, now I'm never turning back.
You have my blood on your lips,
Fatally indebted as a matter of fact.
Your Snow White skin, pale and cold,
Dead black hair, and dead blue eyes, sure have a hold,
On me, wide-eyed and ready.
For the rest of our lives, never ending."

In My Life, Why Do I?

"Find someone and put them in your back pocket, save it for a rainy day. Wait until the one you once loved goes away. Pull out your list and pick and chose who you please, and start all over again. You have no problems with discarding people like cards, you have problem bringing them all in like cards as well. You are the one to push, you are the one to take, and you are the one to leave. You take pride in this, and for that, you are cruel. There is nothing good to come out of it, for you are selfish. We as humans are stupid, so we follow, like flies to a light, and we fall, like flies to a light."

Pre-death realization.

"When I speak up, you shove your voice down my throat, and I choke. I stand to be kicked in the back of the knees. Who needs confidence when you know when it falls on deaf ears. What good is yourself when you are of no use to anyone? What is the point of tired efforts of trying, when no one wants you to love yourself. Why should I love myself when I know I'm incompatible? The spirit is a mere fabrication, only made to be broken. Hope is mere fiction, only to be disproved. Esteem is a mere outlet, for everyone else. Running low, running so low. When everyone is nothing but a mere figure, a stand in the background of everything, life loses it's importance. I don't care about myself, or anyone else."

Where am I?

"I've grown so worn down that I've forgot what love is. You filed me down, and the rest of me went with the wind. This is the rest of me, this is what is left of myself. You see, you always could tell, you always know what you're doing. Taking advantage of what? I don't know. I don't know what you can gain from me, I don't seem to be of much help these days. What do I do, that makes me different from whomever you've spoken to? You can't answer that with a straight face. Mine's been going blue for the past few weeks, choking slowly, and accepting what's ahead."

Well tell them this;

"I'm corrupted by normality, it's been giving me spots in my vision from controlling my reality. I'm getting adapted to the same old feeling, going through the same old emotions. I'm lead to experience, excite, disappoint and accept misery. What do I do when I'm too worn down to want to continue again? I'm corrupted by sex, it's been making me numb. When I excite, I relieve and then I don't care anymore. It blurs my perception on love, it stunts my growth on maturity, and you fuel. You are no better, you are nothing short of ordinary."

Days of permanence.

"In a way I'm numb, so I feel like nothing. In a way I'm nothing, but don't call me that. It could be said that I don't care, as well as it could be said that you care far too much. I could pretend like you don't, but who's the one to get ahead of their-self? I watch you, from a distance of course, and I notice the way you break. I can see your wall dissipate, I can hear your being separate. What have you molded into? This love has surely taken the best of you. It seems you have broken off the key inside of the lock, jumped the gun and now regret. Fish in between the cracks, break your nails for the rest. Too far in to take out now, this is the life you chose. In a way I'm numb, but I can still laugh."

And it doesn't

"Well honey this is what I like to call the real world. This is something you don't understand. This is life in it's purest form, don't you get it? When I strung you high from the skyline it was only to see how you fit in with the city lights. I don't know if you stick out in the right way. Go back to your room and think about your days. Learn from your mistakes and place the proper blame. Until you bend to break, rebuild, maim."

It's slows down a bit.

"I don't know what it is anymore.
When one could ask me how I feel,
I would simply just not reply.
This is a standstill, a low in my life.
Never before, I pray never again.
Is it me, or is it everyone else?
Am I better here, or nowhere at all?
These questions fill my mind every day.
Now when I go to sleep, I don't feel the need to awake.
Though I do, for some reason or another.
It makes less and less sense by the day.

What happens when the chains are broken and you're in a corner?
You will lie down and you will accept your fate.
What happens when you torture, because you cannot feel?
You will lie down and you will accept your fate.
What happens when you pry your fingers into every crevasse,
Blow wind in the eyes of,
Scream in the ear of,
Destroy the being of,
You will wake up and change your ways."

Finish.

"I can't think anymore, no I can't. I wrap myself up and I put myself to sleep from running around my thoughts. No one to pass them along, no one to pick me up. Sidelines stare of course, they'll look away when they've had their share. I break my legs, I scrape my knees, and eat the pavement. Everyone is bigger, I'm only human. I feel in inches, I talk in inches, I am an inch. Towers of you, inch by inch, the smaller I become. You are the crowd, you surround, you are everywhere. I want to collapse, I await my weakening, I accept who I am."

What it can become.

"Two younger men, parents don't know where they have been. Beat the curfew by a few months ago, strolling around for a nights night. Now could you push a little higher? Catch me when I land. Falling down, cackling, sand gets in the most uncomfortable places. Fond since 12, and they spent all day reminiscing. Now when you go off to higher educations, where will I be left? Do I follow? Do I mutter under my breath? Day dream all night. Will one stay, and we'll fall back in to the midst of locality? Please James, wait up for me."

You call this underground?

"She's attached to the neon signs, pushes her waist forward in hopes of city lights. She wanted those amber colored nights, the one you can only see in some pictures, the ones you had to be there to get. She wants to talk about all yesterdays parties with a hangover in mind and coffee in hand. Wake up in a motel bed, a room smaller than your apartment. Answer the door half naked, only stop to question where did your drugs go? Will there be enough for tonight, and if so, will I run out if I split them with my friend. Oh never mind the future, just take pictures now."

Just about.

"Stomach in knots, easing them out with throwing up, build it all back up again. Headache sets, easing it out with a gun to my head, pick up the pieces. Life loses it's wonder, and you don't know what you're here for. When you're caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, everyday, death is a mere step. These are the days when I could end it all."

Some things you just never stop paying for.

"I won everything I wanted on a scratch ticket and then had to give it all away, the government came by and said I had bills to pay. I tried to flee out the back door, but they were there before I could. I begged and I pleed to set me free, but they wouldn't. They threw me in a cell half the size of my room, without a pillow and a blanket, just a toliet, a faucet to wash my face, and a small amount of empty space. I got a book, but I couldn't read much. I couldn't focus on fantasy enough. Maybe someday they'll tell what I really did wrong, because I didn't have enough money for long doesn't make any sense to me. I had plans, I had dreams, I thought of the unthinkable. I wanted to be free, I wanted to be happy, but those things you can't control yourself anymore."

A bit unsettling.

"No one is ever who they seem, they speak on your level to see how you see. Learn from your words and adapt to your thoughts and it turns out wrong. Sometimes I think so much the blood rushes to my head and I can barely stand. Sometimes it makes me so overwhelmed I can't stay conscious. It eats at me when I think about everyone else, not spending enough time on myself. When I grow older I'll realize that I am what matters most, and that no one is ever quite like me. I accept this. I'm insomnia's setting son. I don't know what I want, so I stay awake. I'm sustained off visions filled with discontent, and for that I can not rest."

Untitled

"One of these days I'm going to die by my own hands. I will stare at myself blood red and content. The frustration is a bubbling fester, and I need it to cease. I will do whatever it takes to rid myself of this disease. Impatiently waiting on a change, that I can not bring myself. I am weakening and can not find anywhere that seems fit or willing. I am my own, and I am tired of myself, and when I go to sleep I hope to never awake."

Stockholm.

"I have you and thought about you, now what do I do with you? I followed you and took an interest in you, now what do I do with you? You are mine to keep and you will never leave, whether it be the backseat, the bedroom, or basement. There are others around you, but none quite like you, I kept you here for a reason. I make you realize who you are and what you are for a reason. When I go, please don't be alarmed, please don't be afraid, for I will come back. I made you the way you are and you are mine, when I come back for you, I will apologize. I have to leave town for a couple of days, so don't make a sound please. They will find you and you will stay quiet. They will question you and you will stay silent. They will set you on your way, and you won't last. Without me, you are nothing. Without you, I am nothing. I will find you again."

Time, and time again.

"The way I've been acting, well lately, is only in the light I've seen. I bathe in the heat, while the other kids sleep, because they're tired and they want to go to bed. I would say that I know better now, after getting burned, I think I've figured my way out. After each setting sun, I've arose from the non-believers, I'm getting fairly closer, to what I should of been, what I'm trying to be."

Take my hand, and off we stride...

You are quite the puzzle, torn into pieces and put together by the end of the night. You run around all the work week just to sleep the ends away. And where is your paycheck dear? You seemed to have misplaced it to the collector, the three piece suit prospector. He will make a living off of you. Terrible to hear, but you're so wonderful to see, just pack up, move out and leave.

What time is it?

Head in between your knees and you can start to feel the wind scratch against the back of your neck. Your fingers tightly bound together over your head as you keep every frustrated thought forced inside. A group sits besides you, all unfirmiliar to you and everyone around them. You overhear everything they say, but you can't make out a single word they say. Stress blurs your senses and it dulls your motivation as you slowly give up to continue walking.

I don't belong.

Its only going to rain for another day, following you. Let you see the light and then let you watch it stitch up. You'll feel the cold grey breeze beneath you, it will bother you. You'll feel the sun rise for the morning, underslept and annoyed. You wake up from a half eye opened rest to a window collecting raindrops. It's white mist is all you can see beyond. You have no one to blame for the weather, so you grey another hair.

Withering.

Hospital bracelet and an empty pack of cigarettes, wasn't this the life you couldn't expect? Steady going through your teenage years, make your mark and placed it here. Stale dead air runs through the radiator, inhale exhaust and ash. Enter passenger, it replaces the god on your side. This grey setting, the meaning in your life. Pale white heat beats down your face, a yellow smile cracks, another day awaits.

Please stop.

"Right then and there is when I realized I truely hate myself. When I told you, I asked you how that worked for an answer. You were unsatisfied, you cried. I explained to you every single reason as to why I feel the way I do, but it wasn't good enough. Did I make myself feel the way I do? Did anything around me force me to feel this way? Was it you? Was it nothing? Some things are left unexplained, but I will never stop to ask myself these questions every day for the rest of my life."

Nothing. But. The. Truth.

"Give the kid a costume and let him play in it for years, wait until he feels he's comfortable in this new found skin. Point him in the correct direction and lead him to believe he made it there himself. Forget what you knew and keep what you have, for this is the new standard of living. This is the plight that you've waged against, here's a pat on the back. You've made it this far and what don't you have to say about yourself? Cry until your eyes burn red, boast until your mouth tires from running in circles. We are the all absorbing eyes and ears, and we care."

Oh yeah...about that...

"Sometimes everyone is wrapped up in death.
I can feel a ring of frost building around my lips.
You just really want me to say your name,
As if it holds importance in what I mean.
But my jaw will lock, and my mouth with shut,
And I'm of no use to you."

A few hundred miles back in your mind.

"Underpack and oversleep,
Rush your day and spend the night with me.
No rules and it sounds good like that.
Wake up to something you can't take back.
Hum in your mind, whistle to yourself.
Here a voice in the back of your mind,
And if you choke, make sure to swallow
Down every rationale thought.
All the clothes he bought,
And every minute of happiness.
Oh how time flies at our expense."

When it's dire, you're too tired.

"Every now and then I get reminded about all the bad things that have happened. It comes when you're at your lowest and you can feel it in all senses. You push it out of your mind because you think you're mentally fit, but it comes around again. You can even smell it when you least expect it, and you can see it every time you close your eyes. If it had a taste you'd starve yourself for days. Instead you stay in bed, lie awake, and prey for sleep. You're too tired to scream so you let it happen it your head. You're too tired to go on so you prey for the end. It's the people who wouldn't love you back, it's the burning house you almost slept through, it's the times where the future is too long to wait for. Impatience sets in and you're anxious, and you're too tired to stay alive."

We have a lot in common, you and I.

"You said that I make you feel worthless,
Well I really couldn't argue that.
Turn up the radio to drown you out,
Your voice is starting to get too loud.
You seem to love complaining.
Well I'm guilty of that myself,
But aren't you tired of talking?
Shut up.

Disconnect opportunity.
And pick apart what you'd do to me.
As if we couldn't get any further,
Your self-esteem isn't getting any stronger.

Oh I get it.
You're sexually frustrated.
Oh I get it.

Hearing you moan,
On the other side of the telephone,
Is really overwhelming.
Hearing you do this to yourself.

Run around my life and undo ties,
I'm starting to enjoy it.
Or see your life through blood shot eyes,
You're so pathetic.

Oh I get it.
You're sexually frustrated.
Oh I get it.
I'm sorry.

No one exists when I'm by myself,
No one exists,
No one else."

Good for you.

"I paid for a functioning suicide machine, not years of nightmarish dreams. Congratulations, you have killed the child inside of me. You have stripped me of any mental stability. I am grateful, for I am adult now, it is safe to say that I'm now in a real world. I now think like you, act like you, aspire like you, I will be you. We copy and we manipulate to achieve anything for success, we measure it by how everyone else does. We ruin it for everyone else in order to proceed with our lives. We are uninterrupted, and relaxed. We are normal."

We can dream.

"We lay beside another and stayed up through the morning, fell asleep in the afternoon, and had the night to ourselves. We lived like vampires, and the night was ours, nothing could stop you and I. You were so pale, and I was more alive than ever before. We put up the shades to keep the sun away, when we sleep through the day. We took comfort in the stale warm projection from our television, we were content with one another, nothing else mattered. I had your soul in my hand, we held on tight, and you gave me everything. Near death on the inside, but we are the only thing keeping each other alive."

April 3rd, you're still alone.

"You're now chain smoking cigarettes, because you know just as well as I do, what you've done. You act nervous but it doesn't help your case, I still refuse to give you the time of day. I did not make you the way you are, you did this to yourself. I did not choose to end up with you, you did that to me. Hug your toliet seat, it'll be the only friend that won't get up and walk away. Drink yourself into a coma for days and days and days. "

Farewell.

"The coffins point northeast and we continue our way through the light. One lays isolated amungst a vast land of green, of firmiliarity, of home. Something so frail, has the ability to be taken away too soon, unsuspecting. It is carefully placed, as it is carefully put away. One is only left to think of your outcome, and your being. You have made an escape and you want to journey outward. We gather, and we celebrate you, and your being. You are surrounded by firmiliarity, you are home. "

"Why don't you just get over me?"

"She told me that even if she marries someone else, she'd still be thinking of me. If even she has children and starts a family, she'd still be thinking of me. She left and has yet to come back, yet she said she'd still be thinking of me. She told me she found someone else, she's bound to make a name for herself in college, so now do you still think of me? Were you a liar, or were you just getting too ahead of yourself, with all this talk about thinking of me. We catch up on a monthly basis, and talk about small conversation, and I'm waiting, to see what you'll say. If you'll break from the boring chatter, and express how you've been feeling years after, you made this mistake. Do you wonder, like I wonder, because I don't think there's any other explaination as to why you wouldn't be thinking of me."

However many years old.

"Well how young are we really?
Based upon the thought of life expectancy?
If we die too soon, we just got old too quick.
Now I don't know about you,
But who really wants to see tomorrow,
When you can barely eat, when it gets harder to breathe?
If you could do me a favor,
and show me the way out,
I would appreciate it"

I am only so tall.

"Discouraging nights lead on to long mornings, and it's sometimes where I don't want to wake up at all. You arrive home, defeated, and you can't do anything about it. I fall asleep unsatisfied and unfulfilled, oh how I wish you weren't here. I dream of happier times, where we smile, and are careless throughout the nights, we laugh, and we embrace. These are mere dreams, something that has no physical substance, it's only a thought, and it washes away with reality. I wish to slip from this reality and enjoy myself, be one with where I really want to be. Would that make you think any less of me?"

Golden Years.

"Be happy with your new found friendships, I'm sure there as artificial as the next is.
You'll travel far in life with a personality like that, as open as a window, legs like a doorway.
You make me sick, but there's no way of telling you now, thousands of miles away.
I could ask you how do you live with yourself, but it's easy to ignore me and hang up.
I could ask you how do you sleep at night, and you'd reply, with a different stranger every night.
It's a new found attention, a whole other direction, all included in your growing up process.
I hope you know you're not happy, you're not learning anything, you're just pushing yourself down.
You don't know what it's like to feel, so you'll over react.
You don't what it's like to be accepted, so you try and you're in, is this really what you're looking for? Could you see yourself for a moment now, or are you too busy?"

You wanted ambition, you wanted a future.

"Are we stairing at the times where the only thing affordable to do is death? Where living is a problem, and turned into unbareable, assumed to have no end. It's only said to get worse in this day and age, said that we missed the boat on the golden years. The years that held their weight in gold, when gold had true value. Now we settle for metals, anything to look like the real thing. We're told it's about how seems, and to pick up on acting. How else are we supposed to keep our spirits high? A new car, a new outfit, new life? It's not financially stable enough for us, the bank could put a foreclosure on the house. When I get fired, will unemployment be enough? Going to take out lones on the ones that I love."

Spring broken open.

"The glass table you hoist yourself on is about a transparent as yourself. You are nothing new, you are nothing short of typical. We are the same generation, not the same person, we drift apart. To grace through a life where everything is text book, everything is achievable, and everything is predictable, is not a life at all. You may be blindfolded for the time being, assume what you're doing is right because that's what surrounds you. You are nothing to envy, I would rather be poor, hungry, and unstable than live a life of complacency. You are nothing but a subject inside a course, you are placed into your start, and you are placed in your finish. With no struggle comes no gain, no life lesson, no true knowledge, you are left without experience nor true achievment. You are millions upon millions upon millions, you assimilate into the majority, you are everything, and I am comfortably nothing."

I needed you, now you needed me.

"Tell the police to stay on hold,
Because I just really can't get enough of you.
It doesn't matter how long they could put me away,
Something about this made my day.
One thing I'm certain of,
We did, we did, yes we did."

Enter; self destruction.

"If this isn't what you had planned, then I don't know what you expect from me. A night of unwanted advances, a night of assumed romance. You and I had ideas, and wanted to go somewhere far. Instead we settled for disappointing one another. "Is this your first time?" is what I had heard, and failed to acknowledge. I walk amongst the same road nearly every week, another partner is another figure, and nothing more to me. Ever since I lost the only thing worth keeping in memory, it's been nothing but abuse. My body goes one way as my mind goes another, and they conflict. It leads me to regret, and I can't help but punish myself. I need to be stable, I need to be controlled, but I have no hold, nothing to weigh me down."

Who Am I, Without You.

"The town has prying eyes and they want to know,
If you're going to make it alright.
I mean we never know the outcome,
Don't know what you'd run from.
Wherever you are, we know,
That you're somewhere else,
Or maybe not.
Maybe you're stuck in the black,
Shut off for the time being.
It's so abnormal today.
So why wouldn't it be then.
This tough transition,
This grieving process,
Leaves the heads swimming.
It leaves our thoughts to get tired,
And our minds,
Start to drown."

Dollar Sign of the Times.

"Good morning America's aspiring mothers,
They've held captive, your future sons and daughters.
Cry for you, it's all I can do,
When you're up to your neck in expired medicine.
Insurance is too much, not handing it out for free.
Hide in the dumpster and find your cure,
Scour the depths for something sure.
The lights run dim, your electricity's out.
Goodnight."

January 29th, you're alone.

"You sleep alone in your day old apartment.
I'm not too sorry that I had to leave,
I tend to bite the hand that feeds.
You have no heat in your apartment.
Your blankets will be the only thing,
To keep you warm tonight.
That's if you can actually sleep,
Without crying to me,
If you don't throw a fit,
and call me over and over again.

And now don't you regret all of this?
Traded in a night out with your friends for me.
But you had to go and change that,
You had to go and open your mouth.
Nothing good really ever comes out.
You set your expectations so high,
Only to feel so low.
But I can't say that I feel sorry for you."

And after all these months.

"Try and look for the love in my eyes,
Now blind me.
I can't read your lips,
but I'm sure it's mouthing "I hate you."
I tried to hold onto you, I fell.
I tried to talk to you, I failed.
I'm going to be on this small inside,
It'll be the first day of the rest of my life.
In this bed, I'll stay in unrest.
I never needed this."

You are the air.

"So he's pretty confused. He basically just threw away most of his teenage years. When it turned around to look back at him, with blue glaring eyes that begged for another chance he saw right through them. He felt sick to his stomach, it took him years to realize that now he spent so much time on nothing. He spent his years with a human that has the traits of the air. It went where ever it was forced, it had no definite shape or form, it had nothing to offer but a touch you could only truely feel with bare skin. A feel that you can avoid, a feel that you have control over at most times, where you sometimes long for it, or where you sometimes dread it, a feeling that will never pierce you. The effect it will cause will stay too busy being on the surface, no matter how much you try to let it in, it will escape you. You may think it will always be there, but one day you will lose it and feel the same touch from a different gust of wind. A different era, a different time, a different period in your life where you will run into the open and know that it will find you, and that you feel is in your position. It will come full circle in the most minimal and unsatisfying way possible, It will never leave you, but it will bring you nothing, it'll leave you nothing, in the end you'll realize that it is and was all nothing."

Try, stop, try, stop, etc.

"She made me feel like expulsion
She made me feel set aside
Oh and she asked me
If I was the jealous type

How could I feel normal
With her hand on my wrist
Then she asked me, oh she asked me
Do you want to exist

My first step into water
Feeling reborn again
Go for seconds, go for thirds
It never had an end
But then my legs broke
I couldn't go for a swim
You couldn't help me
Watched me drown
Too many times to stay in

So now my sheets still
Smell just like you
I'll never wash it
Lay in my filth
If that's what I have to do
Make up for lost time
Make up for warped minds
Oh pick me up, oh pick me up
Oh take me with me you"

You're going somewhere.

"You lost all your friends, all two of them.
I can't say that I feel sorry for you, because you lost me too.
I don't talk to you anymore, but I bet your life is far worse than mine.
No matter how much money or materials are between us, you're miserable.
I can't really sympathize for you, because you don't deserve that too.
You don't think, you don't think, that's your problem, you don't think.
Look at where this has got you now, you're alone, I think, I hope.
You sleep alone, you live alone, still.
This is what you deserve."

Lone.

"Now recently deceased to the thought of commitment.
Only taking what I feel that I need for the moment.
In my life, there's no one else, it's an escape made for myself.
It's my own little personal hell, that I seek help in.
When I go to sleep alone, I'm satisfied for about eight hours.
Waking up with thoughts that have the ability, to devour, my day.
Call me wrenched, call me vile, call me pathetic, but you're still nothing, to me.
Whatever you want to think, I wouldn't dare reciprocate, because you'll never be in my thoughts.
It's just the same, it's another day, I'm just another phone call away.
We all have a fix, we all bathe in it."

Wake up.

"You're all awake because something is troubling you.
It's 2am and you still can't sleep, you don't plan on it.
You still replay the voice in your head "Stop acting childish" and it won't leave you alone.
All you want for right now is to be left alone, even when by yourself.
You can't stop yourself from annoying yourself."

First post.

Well someone suggested that I should make a blog of my writings and whatnot, so I figured why not.

• You have the option to not read what I have wrote, so don't complain.
• Criticism is welcome.
• Just about every day I write, so I'll be posting my writings quite frequently.