My stomach drops
when the car goes down a hill.
I feel like I'm falling,
but not in a bad way.
Like a sort of drug,
or midnight shot of tequila.
Warmth floods
my body.
Everything's okay.
If you hurt yourself first,
others don't get the chance.

All I can give you
is my empty heart,
my hollow love.
Like a glove,
it wears thin with time.

Beautifully broken,
barely belonging.

My life is an animation.
Just a cartoonists drawing as I drip and slide with the cosmic flow.
Bouncing off objects and seeping through the floor, deeper and deeper as I lose myself once again.
Neither existing or otherwise, just flowing and leaving it behind. Scene to scene, nothing more than a prescribed drop of emotions.
A slowmotion adventure as I explore possibilities.

Go ahead
hold me a little longer
than usual.
You say to me,
without using any
words at all,
"it should have been me,
its still me."
Like i don't already see
those sky blue eyes
every time i close my own.
Because we're still holding
on to god knows what.
Because it is you
and it will always be you.

crystal clear thinking
is not for me
i see life as a blur
full of happy and sad moments
wondering whether things lead to better things
having days of complete and utter sorrow
then days of hope and a sense of self again
my life is not a routine
it is not structured
i think
i will just keep moving forward
slowly
until the pieces of my life
are put together

driving too fast through the countryside with the windows down
that's how it is talking to you
absolute freedom
completely filled with a sense of belonging
you are home