I believe in soulmates,
Watching Netflix,
And the playful fight that leads to,
First kisses,
And giddy smiles.
I believe that even the simplest of things can be beautiful with you by my side.

i believe bad things happen to good people because they will handle it with a calming sense of grace.

unlike the bad people,
who will destroy everything they touch.

thats just how it is.
the good people always get ******* over in the end.

I could just **** as I masochistically type your name into the search bar at the top of the page.  
I want to erase you from my memory,
but my browser catches your cookies.
I don't even know what those cookies are.
the cookies from the jar?
the cookies from my mind?
the cookies from my computer...
the cookies you ate that one time.
Oreos.
Those were your favorite.
Who the **** brought up cookies?
I could just **** as I masochistically type your name into the search bar at the top of the page.

i’ve spent the last
six months of my life
dying to die
with no results.
and in that time i’ve
been walking
on a sidewalk that
is crooked and cracked
into some godforsaken
place. through my journeys
i’ve come to rely
on two certainties:
that i will go to bed
unsatisfied and hungry.

and every night is
a rainy one and cats eat
the fur and bones of dogs dead
in the flooded gutters. the grey
monoliths of the city
are always a step away, but
i don’t get any closer.

and if i could give back
all the cigarette ash and whiskey
i’ve drank i’d do it because
i’d be losing blank meaningless
memories, or at least
they mean nothing to me. i can’t
say the same about
those people in the memories.

and i passed the corner
where i sat drunk on the brick
with my friend, smoking
a cigarette and i remember
telling him that it was
going to be alright. i don’t
know if i was lying or if
i didn’t know the truth
but he left.

and i walked by the home
of my first love and the windows
were dark and the cars were
gone from the driveway.

and i found myself in front
of the house of the girl
i loved who didn’t love me
and the air was black, save
for the glare of a lighter through
the rain and i remembered
a dream i had.

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

I know if I fall one more time,
It's gonna be the fall that would break me.
We should get tired
because they don't deserve what they think they do.
It's hard when no one understands you
and no one has the patience for you.
You're all alone
to sob for yourself
and hate yourself one more tomorrow.
I'm writing this down
because I know that the paper would listen to,
though not understanding, all my reasons.
The ones you wouldn't listen to.
The ones you called hell of an excuse.
You think you're the only one.
Haven't you noticed,
I'm too tired to understand myself, too.