People like songs because they remind them of their favorite people
So why is his favorite song so sad



                                                          And when will I be able to listen to love songs again.

And for a couple moments there, we marveled at each other

But once you spoke of us in past tense, I wanted to forget to miss you again

I know that everything just got a bit too complicated
I do that sometimes, even though I never meant to

I know that good people hurt other good people
We do that sometimes, even if we never meant to

There are days when the air gets too heavy again
There are days when my favorite songs get sad again
But we all get a little bit broken sometimes
And sometimes its good to learn to stand on our own

   Even though its lonely

                                              
                 ­                               Even if it hurts




                                                      ­                                                                 ­         **a lot.

I like the Sinatra, drunk on trumpets kinda love songs

               Because when I hear them, I dream of slow dancing with you.

In winter this **** storm of a town falls to nothing but a low hum

                 and it is a steady as it is wide spread
And in only a matter of weeks, we forget what it is to breathe fresh air
So we go through the motions of living in this assembly line kinda life
The motions of laughing and breathing and crying and falling and loving
And the influenza of seasonal depression is infectious so we wrap ourselves in coats and hats and scarves in hope of escaping the pathogen of loneliness that radiates through our stereos

                                                        ­                            In winter, this town falls into hibernation

the snow falls mercilessly, without anguish.

tell me
Were you awake when you first caught me, because I was still half-asleep when I found myself in your arms
Were you awake when you first kissed me, because I was in a dream when my lips first met yours
    But there was something in your electric touch that woke me
                            
                                                                ­                             And I remembered that snow *melts

one. dont read this one its embarrassing.
two. i just listened to three of my favorite songs and they made me think of you.
three. i want to be held by you.
four. i want to be kissed by you.
five. god, i should really sleep.
six.  i still remember when you first held my hand.
seven. yeah I'm lame.
eight. I should probably stop now
nine. it is too **** late
ten. pretend you didn't see this.
eleven. you make my knees weak.
twelve. whoops pretend I didn't say that
one.  please kiss me anyways.

I find my self searching for strength with sleepy eyelids

And I want to get so ******* in you, I will forget which parts are mine and which are yours
So that maybe if I surround myself enough in you, my heart will steady for long enough for me to feel significant
or at least  so my heart will steady for long enough so I can stand up straight, and look less scared

Sometimes I fill myself with so many unused words it makes me nauseous
and then my hands ache and shake from lack of use

the tips of my fingers are raw and red from plucking at dreams that feel too far beyond my reach
and it is getting hard to breathe

everyday this town feels like it is shrinking, and I am either to big to fit, or too small to be noticed
everyday this town feels heavier, and my shoulders are already exhausted from the dead weight of my head
this place makes my bones ache for air, my head spins wishing that I could put my soul someplace besides the bottom of my book bag
and I spend my nights dreaming of a future that feels four years too slow
I pretend that the stars are a skyline, so that maybe in my sleep deprived insanity I can breathe a little easier

So am I okay?
No I feel lost, and like shattering
        
           But you feel the same way too

               So maybe if we tell each other that we are okay now
                                         One day we will be.

If diamonds are supposed to be made from immense amounts of pressure, why am still dark and dusty?