I got writers block somethin serious, like no other. But I'm ready to drown my feelings and put them down under. I just know I'm not letting my life get taken away from your conservative mother. Why can't she just take those beliefs and treat em like somethin to smother. I don't want you to leave and listen to her and go find yourself a brother. You are my calm, my rain, but all Im hearing is thunder.

ice bath through my veins.
my chest caves in.
wrists bound in chains.

the tears flow.
I can't speak.
no one knows.
barely on my feet..

Heat wave.
trembles.
I can't be saved.
suffocation.
helplessness.
to my head, I'm slaved.

lovely flowers rooted in my lungs.
medicated exhales clouding the air around us.
i just want you in my space.

I used to hit to get high or hit to get by.
**** I'd hit just to lie next to another lie just to feel my next cry and wonder if it hurt to die.

I used to hit to get high or hit to get by. That love was where my motivation lied. I wasn't looking for a single love but multiple feelings of maybe appreciation or the approximation of someone wanting my affection or attention.

I used to hit to get high or hit to get by.
3 4 5 people in and out of my room never seeing the naked truth or naked you that one who said loved should see. All I knew is I wanted to be what they need and who they see without the loyalty.

I used to hit to get high or hit to get by.
The rush was amazing. The divide was encasing as the sin and lies overwhelmed and the curtain started raising...

I used to hit to get high or hit to get by.

I saw and sobered. Not from love but the addiction itself. I sobered from the urge that made me want more, in fact this love I felt was more in depth. In fact it crept and wept sweet tears and happiness. All I wanted was the one; I saddened less. I was what she needed along with the loyalty. I asked about her needs and wants and acted accordingly.

I used to hit to get high or hit to get by but now I comply to loves law. Abide in her soul. A love and devotion I am no longer able to control. Our love is almost story tale told. I no longer wait for another to unfold.

she never read my poetry. matter of fact she never gave a **** about anything that did to me.
she never tried to learn me, every chance she had she was intentionally trying to burn me.
I started thinking about a quote I once heard.
you accept the love you think you deserve.
when in reality no one deserves less than the world.
I was killing myself mentally, making myself go through hell with this girl.
knowing she wasn't anything, literally, wanting to go back home, critically, missing home, physically, speaking out my *** potentially ruining any chance I had of coming back home.
I was home sick but I was sick of home.
my mind made up a whole story of it own,
made me hate her for doing things for reasons she didn't, saying things she wouldn't, hurting me on purpose..
she hurt me on purpose, but we both had guns. I pulled my trigger first and they both turned automatic.
rapid fire shots sending head shots every round.
yet we were still standing,
fighting for the one thing we knew that wasn't dead.
white flags waving we realized we were fighting for the same thing.
fighting to come back home.
for my home was her, as her home was me.

Her lips are intoxicating.
Her body is hypnotic.
The way she speaks alone is simply symbolic.
Her words are for strength and unending devotion.
She took my heart and claimed it all with one slight motion.

The arch of her mouth and the show of that smile,
that one last kiss led me out of denial.
She's the love of my world, that seemed to tragic.
you started this fire burning, with just one matchstick.
So flimsy and fragile, like the day we first met.
That one single strike, easily had our hearts lit.

Even if I could go back to the beginning,
I wouldnt change the fact that we're sinning.
we're steady fighting,
Even when we're losing were winning.

i swear to god if you take her away from me again
might as well take my life with hers

i’m tired of these up and down roller coasters
i’d rather take a ride in a hearse

if there ever comes an end to us,
i'll quickly throw my life in reverse.


this pain in my chest is all too common.
maybe is the fear of being forgotten.
or the fear of being left, metaphorically, in a coffin.

i hope this isn't part of some trick or lesson.
karmas a *****, i’ve had her too much in my presence.
you can tell by my expression there’s no feelings i’m oppressing, i’d simply fall into a depression without you by my side taking my sadness and suppressing, to be honest, without you id turn to aggression take my fate as a message, and put a gun to its head for leading my life in the wrong direction.

It hurts knowing you’ve said these words before. Are they different though?
because they’re said to me?
No
I couldn’t be that significant.

Our connection is cosmically at will.
I see your shadow in the most specific places.
Hidden in my playlists and the loss of yours.
To IO and back. It never ends.
Like Saturn losing its rings, I guess it's inevitable?
Like a flame, it'll burn. and god does it burn.
Centralia still hasn't stopped,
and neither have I.
The rain falls when spoken of. Down my cheeks.
I have one video with just a taste of your voice and it's all I have left. I see your hand in view and have to see it now in someone elses..
youre a star,
even if not mine.
but you know as well as I do.
You're exceptional.
Superhuman.
My whole heart.