I remember the night of the blood moon.
It was 20° and you and I were huddled up in the back of my moms pick up truck with what couldn't have been less than 10 comforters..
We sat out there for an hour and a half watching the moon eclipse, telling each other about our favorite books and naming the shapes we thought the stars had made around the moon.
By the time the eclipse had passed we were no more than extensions of one another.. One warm body soaking in the energy of the radiant moon.. One heart.

-AMarauder

There are people I will never know
And their lives will still ensue
Those that could have loved me so
And I'll never wonder who

Of all the things that come and go
There is no one else like you

The things I never think of
And the only thing I do

-Lang Leav

I am an insomniac by association.
I associate with sleepless nights and mindsets that are too wobbly and shaky to be anything less than a tornado.
I want to rename my veins after hurricanes.
This one's Sandy because it washed away the girl I loved in New Jersey.
Because the ocean is never as salty as my cheeks after I kiss her through the miles.
Because I am not a boy, because my mother thinks I wear black because I used to slit my wrists.
Because of my tattoos that whisper of their memories while I lay in bed counting the stars I can't see.
So I start counting the stars I see in my head.
So I started taking drugs that made me see them instead.
I am an insomniac because I want to sleep but only when I remember the reasons why I can't.

I think I was mistaken about something along the road.
I think I saw stop signs as signals to go.

I think I need to go.

Is it sad to say that you depress me?
I don't know how to apologize for that.
Every time I think about loving you I want to be underwater.
I want to be somewhere where the lights are dim.

When my heart is heavy I am drawn to paper
I want every tear to tell its story
Every gasp that brings no relief to explain why there is not enough oxygen in the world to fill my wanting lungs
But I don't want my sorrow to be my message

They say it's cliché to find beauty in everything
But what is the alternative?
To be miserable?
To just accept that black is black? dark and cold?
Or to understand that black is the blending of all the colors
This IS living
For better and for worse
It is a gift given so(u)ley to us
And these feelings are ours and ours alone
That is why at times, some more often than not, we feel alone
And what a beautiful thing that is
They say man is the only creature who knows he is alone
And look.. Look at how high the depths of our souls have brought us

-AMarauder