And if you're asking if I slept well the answer is no. My eyes and heart are aching with cement stuck in between my toes and your words in my fingers. Tears come back to burn like the summers sun - tripping on my own eyelids - drowning in winter - drowning in you.
Your voice croaks from all the plastic you've swallowed - shadow after shadow I'm on me knees begging that you won't have another drink.
You see, in afraid that the burning of all the camera flashes and ***** have replaced the warmth of a best friend.
You smell raw, like you just ripped your skin off your back the same way you take your shirt off - while I smell of rotting flowers that have perfumed my lungs for far too lung because my skin is hiding in the back of my closet.
It's pouring again - but this time revealing my chipped nail polish that each could only represent their own private islands,
And you are the toxic water I am floating in.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 1:03 AM UTC
There's a fire in my eyes
and a flood in my bones
and there's a soaking wet mop going
back and forth
back and forth
wiping up tears from loving him,
to loving him.
I can feel my heart blistering - I still can't believe that I was able to pack us in one paper grocery bag.
Your lyrics are stuck on replay as if they were the only sentence or question that makes sense - "what would you have me do other than love you?"
Practicing the idea of striving to be like the moon, my thoughts and love burned away in the light
and you were the quite forest that stood still-
saying nothing of the changing leaves or season.
Hands shaking like earthquakes.
Thoughts racing as time has.
My body has become a natural disaster.
The cigarette in my hand is nothing but the light to a stick of TNT that the town has come to watch burn away,
as if I was lying,
just as you were when you said you loved me.
I didn't pay attention to the sinking ship we were sailing,
all that mattered was that we were a float.
So one last time I'll ask -
what the moon is to do without the sun?
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
I don't want you to love me anymore,
I want you to be in love with me.
With less than three months
I'm stuck in a downwards spiral
of clinging to your ankles for spontaneous
break outs of loving me to death
or being my death.
I could pray
I could beg you to stop,
but you break my heart every night when you don't show up.
The bags under my eyes don't represent a lack of sleep,
but rather a lack of sanity,
from chasing a ghost for the past six months.
Six hours to ******* forget me.
Forget your medicine.
Forget to breath.
Six minutes away form your house,
and six words left for you:
dependent, selfish, arrogant, immature, ass-licking ********
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
maybe it's the rain pounding down on my ears
or the echoes of last summers laughter
those perfect yet empty beer cans that used to lie on your kitchen table
are a clear representation of who i've become
with no more love to give.
I'm numb from saving your attention
if only i had known those
memories made one blurred photograph
that you've kept hidden under your bed.
when i told them that after i reach those 4,000 miles i'm done
they sat in silence and nodded their heads because for the past 10 months
they too have been the empty beer cans on your kitchen table
waiting for you to throw them away.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
with every touch comes another shock and fall
ing in love all over again.
with every look I see end
less days of mountains and you
r smile.
with every word I hear the trees around us breath & dream
t of promises coming true.
with every thought of you I can feel every at
om and every molecule race into my body and dance
to the thumping of a heart
that will never stop loving you.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
With the increasing pace of an uneven heartbeat
It's my newest piece of
distressed art.
Quickly mixing stops and I'm sorry's leaving edges to crack next to thoughts.
I cut out the kinks with a tool for pretending
that everything will stay on the ground.
I try to recreate the shape I once knew,
but this time with tears for something that's lost.
For seven years now all I've wanted was you,
but this is something that I cannot mat.
I'll keep working on this until you say I'm done,
knowing that I'll be the one who pays the cost.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
stop romanticizing death.
the sick image of me
laying on my grave
as you sit beside
shaking with unspoken words
of lost love.
old and new times come together
pretending that we are so easy
to recreate.
10 minutes away
tomorrow I am leaving
so why at my feet now,
all the emotions
that I don't want to step into
cover me in mud.
smoke blinds the past
time after time.
when is this night gonna end.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
And if you're asking if I slept well the answer is no.
my eyes and heart are aching with cement stuck in between my toes
and your words in my fingers.
Tears come back to burn like the summer sun
tripping on my own eyelids
drowning in winter
drowning in you.
Your voice croaks from all the plastic you've swallowed.
Shadow after shadow I'm on my knees begging that you won't have another drink;
you see, I'm afraid that the burning of all the camera flashes and ***** have replaced the warmth of long term friendships and sarcastic complains.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
*as the music takes control of two lonely people
we danced through these months
with bruised feet and
****** toes.
as the year comes to an end we pick old broken glass
from our fingers to leave them in the sun.
lets not forget sober sunsets
and intoxicated rises.
as a new one comes so does the end.
so let's say our goodbyes now
and maybe leave a piece in -
for two thousand
and thirteen.*
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC