It was at 4 am that you told me humans need at least 6 hours of sleep to function properly.

I didn't sleep that day and neither did you.

6 months later and I saw you again. We talked. You told me you've been getting 7 hours of sleep and I told you that I'm lucky if I get 2.  

*-c.a.

I have this uncomfortable taste in my mouth and you put it there.
With your smooth words and sly lips,
your cunning eyes and devils stare;
you were no good from the moment we first met.
Yet I deceived myself to believe that I could make you fall in love with me.
Because I have legs that could go on for miles if you dared to take them for a walk and hair that you love to twirl around your finger but it's like my net of affections so you try not to get caught.
And I just wanted you to know that you are my 3 am thoughts.
When I am laying in bed clutching at my chest wondering if that smile earlier was for me; when I am laying in bed wondering why that girl and not me.
But see I should have known better because there is always a catch, if it's too good to be true then it most likely is and nothing good ever lasts.

*-c.a.

I really wish that you could be me.
I'm not being conceited here just read.
I wish that you could be me just so that you could have the chance to talk to you, so you could know the way the earth's tidal waves of motions play with your emotions and know when the steady ground that you walk on turns into rocky mountains on unexpected occasions and even though you are wearing flip flops, you still try to climb them.
I wish that you could be me just so that you could actually really see yourself.
See the way that pretty isn't just an adjective but a way a being and that you're being the only way you know how to be and pretty can't even begin to describe the way you are and so many have given up after pretty, so so pretty.
And I wish that you could be me so you could hear yourself sing, so you can hear the way your voice travels through those octaves like its on a summer road trip with no hurry, with a set destination but no time limit.
Your voice is like skipping through a meadow while doing hard drugs.
It's getting you high but so very peaceful at the same time
And I know you may not like your size but I think its great, you could fit in a suitcase, I could pack you up and take you to Maine, imagine all the adventures that we'll take.
I wish you could be me so you could see yourself when you're sad, so you can see that this body, your mind and your soul is some astral projection made in the cosmic heaven above and you may think that you deserve all this pain but you are made up of stardust and tiny planets, you have a whole universe inside of you and nobody deserves any pain.

I wish you could be me so you can see how much you mean to me.

*-c.a.

like the shock of electricity sent through your veins
a murmur went through the hallway
a phrase composed of several words was being forced out of everyone's lips
almost as if they didn't get them out there would be no room for air to come in
and if you can imagine the soulless look of vultures feeding
imagine the look of teenagers seeding
thoughts of you to others that aren't true but who knows except you
only you can verify the fact that you are the one that tried to attack
the monsters in your head by going through your wrist
or maybe by opening a door to your head with a bullet as a key
but these teenagers are ruthless, no they wont stop
they'll find some way to pick off all the meat
get to the nitty gritty, find the bone and just leave
for ***** sake why do they just leave
help why am I scared of people like me

*-c.a.

I don't really know what I am.
My head is a mess that has been stomped all over.
My thoughts have been trampled and my wants have been crushed.
My heart is a graveyard where old loves have died;
incapable of living in my complicated life.
My legs are sore from walking countless miles to get what I desire.
And let's face it, I'm a mess with complicated heart palpitations and an honest to God crazy imagination.
I don't really know what I am
or who I am,
All I know is that I matter and I might not know how or why
but I know that I do.

*-c.a.

I am a part of a fallen generation.
The generation that takes pride in their pain.
We don't let it stray too far, we keep it just at bay.
It is very common to have hatred for ourselves more than others.
People are wishing to be dead because the world is too heavy for our fragile shoulders.
Constant headaches because our heads are expanding at a rapid rate
and we will try to stand tall no matter how much our knees quake.
There is no gain without pain or so they told us.
See we've grown accustomed to the constant nagging of our sub conscious desires, a raging battle between reasons to live and reasons to expire.

*-c.a.