Nov 2014
Lately I have been numb
I can never write when I am numb,
and the only logical reason I have for being able to write this is the fact that it's 12 am and im drunk
but I'm still somehow able to spell out my words without constantly messing up
I dont know, maybe its magic..
Or maybe I'm falling apart again
I can write my feelings, I can write emotions, I can spell out the colors of the rainnbow in such intricate detail that you would have to read it over 3 times before you understood what I was talking about
But I wont make you do that.
Some days, I feel as if I could write a story about the way your lips curve into a smile like I've never seen before
Some days I could wrap my legs around you and bury my face it the space where your neck and shoulders meet and just relax into you
Some days I think I could rip myself apart and lay the pieces over all of your puddles to keep your shoes from getting wet,
You see, I am in love with you,
desperatly in love with you
utterly, incredibly in love with oyu.
Im hiding behind bulletproof glass windows, like the ones they have in those cop shows
and I'm staring at the mirror while you stare at me and I'm wondering what the **** is going on
I hate the thought of everyone else standing on the outside and looking in while I fall apart
And the thing is, I have no reason to fall apart,
somethimes when im riding in the car, I look out of the window and I think about killing myself,
sometimes I just tell people that im sad and i dont know why and they call me selfish
but how can i be selfish if I cann't even find myself
I got lost somw=ehwere a long time ago and I thought that I could find myself in a church on a street in a house on upton
I thought I could find myself inside a monk named bhudda, I was told he had the secrets to peace and I wanted them so badly
I though I could find myself in a book, but that only gave me a story for a few days and when I finished I was back to square one again and that kinda **** can really ******* up mentally
I thought I could find myself in a blunt and a bottle but I realized that wasn't for me when I was throwing up in showers, toilets and sinks, while a stranger held my hair back and told me not to think and when I left the bathroom some randm **** asked me if I wanted another drink, before I know it im passed out on the floor and im missing some of my clothes and thats not a good life if there ever was such a thing..
I thought I could find myself in a paintbrush but art gives me more anxiety than ever because my hands won't stop shaking from the numbness
So tonight I'll try to find myself in the bottom of a cheap dollar store wine glass, I'll try to wrap myself around the constant drum of my fingers hitting the keys because nobody seems to believe in paper and pencil anymore and tonight I will love you like I've never loved anything in this entire ******* world before,
because I think that everyone I've ever tried to love before was a fluke,
and like that one song says, they're probably broken roads that lead to you,
I'm waiting for the day I get the courage to leave my mirror and walk out of that gray walled, bullteproof window interrogation room,
The day I can finally look into your eyes and tell you how glad I am to finally meet you and ask you where the *******'ve been.
I can never write when I am numb,
and the only logical reason I have for being able to write this is the fact that it's 12 am and im drunk
but I'm still somehow able to spell out my words without constantly messing up
I dont know, maybe its magic..
Or maybe I'm falling apart again
I can write my feelings, I can write emotions, I can spell out the colors of the rainnbow in such intricate detail that you would have to read it over 3 times before you understood what I was talking about
But I wont make you do that.
Some days, I feel as if I could write a story about the way your lips curve into a smile like I've never seen before
Some days I could wrap my legs around you and bury my face it the space where your neck and shoulders meet and just relax into you
Some days I think I could rip myself apart and lay the pieces over all of your puddles to keep your shoes from getting wet,
You see, I am in love with you,
desperatly in love with you
utterly, incredibly in love with oyu.
Im hiding behind bulletproof glass windows, like the ones they have in those cop shows
and I'm staring at the mirror while you stare at me and I'm wondering what the **** is going on
I hate the thought of everyone else standing on the outside and looking in while I fall apart
And the thing is, I have no reason to fall apart,
somethimes when im riding in the car, I look out of the window and I think about killing myself,
sometimes I just tell people that im sad and i dont know why and they call me selfish
but how can i be selfish if I cann't even find myself
I got lost somw=ehwere a long time ago and I thought that I could find myself in a church on a street in a house on upton
I thought I could find myself inside a monk named bhudda, I was told he had the secrets to peace and I wanted them so badly
I though I could find myself in a book, but that only gave me a story for a few days and when I finished I was back to square one again and that kinda **** can really ******* up mentally
I thought I could find myself in a blunt and a bottle but I realized that wasn't for me when I was throwing up in showers, toilets and sinks, while a stranger held my hair back and told me not to think and when I left the bathroom some randm **** asked me if I wanted another drink, before I know it im passed out on the floor and im missing some of my clothes and thats not a good life if there ever was such a thing..
I thought I could find myself in a paintbrush but art gives me more anxiety than ever because my hands won't stop shaking from the numbness
So tonight I'll try to find myself in the bottom of a cheap dollar store wine glass, I'll try to wrap myself around the constant drum of my fingers hitting the keys because nobody seems to believe in paper and pencil anymore and tonight I will love you like I've never loved anything in this entire ******* world before,
because I think that everyone I've ever tried to love before was a fluke,
and like that one song says, they're probably broken roads that lead to you,
I'm waiting for the day I get the courage to leave my mirror and walk out of that gray walled, bullteproof window interrogation room,
The day I can finally look into your eyes and tell you how glad I am to finally meet you and ask you where the *******'ve been.
