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Sep 2015
I need to leave.
The dust and wild air need to enter my lungs
I need the taste of freedom to touch the tip of my tongue.
I need freedom to run his finger tips down my thighs,
kiss me over and over,
make me sigh.
I need your past to be left there and I need her ghost to stop following you everywhere, I need you to stop swallowing it up and giving me that blank stare.
The blood in my veins and the flesh covering my bones will never be the same as the last place you really called home.
I hope she finds her way back to you, I really do,
I don't want to see you suffer anymore and I don't want to go down with you too.
I know you love her more than me and I know I'm incomplete.
But believe me when I say this isn't how I will be.

I'm just some wannabe eighteen year old who's been taught a lot just by making moans,
those who taught me made me swear by a secret oath.
I lost the real me underneath a tree in the cool October air, I lost my integrity and it's probably buried in one of the graves there
I refuse to dig it back up, it was too weak to stay, I've been building a new one since that last day.

You taught me that people never really get over their first loves
maybe that's why I'm always so drunk. I used to drink coffee every hour but I traded it for a something a lot more stout, something everyone else sees me swallow and then sends their condolences and doubt.
The poison makes more sense than reality and the unforced fists,
the poison creates more forget,
and no matter what I know romance doesn't exist
.
I know I'm a *****, I never said I was kind,
to all of the people who are shocked, I don't understand why you're so blind. All I am is ink and paper,
nicotine and liquor,
a buzz mistaken for love,
a child that left everyone completely and utterly ******.

People over fantasize being next to a person in a bed at 3 a.m.
they see it as some sort of grand gesture of love,
when the reality is that during those hours you can finally feel the distance and the realization of how nobody ever truly gives a ****.
Nobody knows anyone. Ever.
Your parents, your friends, your gas station clerks, Walmart greeters, cousins, brothers and sisters.
You're just a face and that's all you'll ever be,
you're nothing more than God and nothing less than me.
It hurts to die, nobody knows what happens after that grand little exit,
but it hurts worse to live with all of these bad habits.
I don't believe everyone knows sin the way I do. So many different lips have found their way down my body after 10 o'clock at night, but the first time I felt yours on my lips, everything felt right. But I'm scared that I could be wrong, and I'm even more scared that I could be right.
The girl who spent every night with a different boy now has one that she truly wants to be with for the rest of her life.
I keep trying to run and I keep trying to hide, because it's scary to be me when the most prominent word in my vocabulary is goodbye.
Baby believe me, I love you more than any cliches about the moon and the sea, I love you more than any pill, cigarettes, or cheap whiskey. I love you with the fire in my chest and all of the holes where it makes it's ruby red nest. I know this is all so far fetched and unfair to you, but I'm still scared that I'm nothing more than a body to **** in attempt to fill in the holes within you.

I hope that your love is more than just a phrase,
I know I'm only eighteen but I feel much older than my age.
I hope your love wants to stick around until my ******* angst completely leaves, I hope it want to follow me through the years and spend the rest of its life with me.
I know I'm young and wild and also far too naive.
I know for a fact that you're so far beyond me.
I know I can sound vacant and immature.
I know I **** up and go crazy and make everything obscure.
I know I can't see clearly and more or less run from everything that's not alcohol or drugs.
Sometimes all I want is to get drunk off your love, but most of the time I'm just left with a buzz.
Your thoughts are bigger than anything anyone can comprehend, your existence is the best thing I've witnessed since time began.
Your skin against mine feels the same way the first bite Eve took out of the apple must have been so ripe and raw with taste.
I fear I'll be left out as waste.
I know your love has just as much fear as mine, and I'm sorry you have to witness my deepest sins being sung lullabies.
grace elle
Written by
grace elle  AR
(AR)   
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     Jeffrey Stewart and ---
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