An idea that fell apart when I tried to write it, oh well.

It's lame, I know.

Just some dumb, honest rambling...

At least I have our memories, Andrew.

I dunno... (I swear I don't write these.)

As always: some memory, some fiction, mostly truth.

What do you want from me?

Thinking about you a lot lately because of your brother, and his drums and piano...
I shall always love you Andrew.
Hope England treats you well if you make it that far (, and I know you will).

Old piece.
Really terribly written.

I wanted to put his poem here because, yeah, I added to it and we made it a piece for us together that I already put here, but I honestly just love his lines so much, far more than mine. If he knew how many times I've re-read this, he'd probably laugh or give me a funny look or something. But, I don't know... he just makes me so stupidly happy. It doesn't even make sense that I can be so miserable, see him, and just want to... grin...
Yeah, well, this is the original poem he sent me on 9/29/2014 at 12:43 A.M. while I was sleeping. (I love waking up to stuff *insert stupid him related grin*)

I'm breaking down.

I only hate myself now.

I can't control anything anymore.

I'm a puppet with broken strings.


Someone please help me.

LAME.
I'm so disappointed in my work of late. :/

idunno...drafts.
- - -
**Old piece

(I just love couplets.)
I don't see us ever going anywhere,
if you proceed to act like you don't care.
So why should I stick around?

I hate that I want to see you.

Boy, can't you tell?
You're my heaven,
But I deserve hell.

The bruises, because... I fell. You always seem to believe that.

**** this ****.

I feel like you abandoned me, and I've no doubt given you plenty of reason to, but you stuck around.
So I suppose what I want to know is... why now?