the heart beats whether we want it to or not.
it beats while we sleep,
while we cry.
it pounds while our fists do the same
against each others walls.
trying to break something down.
our hearts beat us til the day we die.
the rhythm is seemingly perpetual once you notice it
and only when our time is up does it stop.

when im with you
i know im alive.
my heart feels as though its going to beat
right out of my chest
and into your hands.
it seems as though thats its true home.
you hold what beats me most
so i beg you to be gentle, lest it breaks.
i know thats cliche but you see,
this beating that i take every day
is all i have to keep me going.
its all i have to remind me im alive
and when im with you
it flutters uncontrollably
and im left doubtless
that this isnt a dream

Last night I drove for an hour,
to tell you I'm leaving..
I intended to end us,
but you were so sad.
I didn't do it.

Our relationship is unhealthy
and I don't want to be in it.
I want to leave you,
but you were so sad.
So I'll wait.

I wanted to tell you
we should break up now,
to avoid slow torture
for the next 3 months
til I leave.

I'm going halfway across the country.
And you're stuck here.
And you're content with where you are.
I don't want you to come with me.
Stay in your ****** life,
I don't want a part of it.

I hate that I love you so much.
I hate that you love me even more.
I don't want anything to do with you,
but I cant escape you.

At the mere brush of your hand
I am electrified
I never want the goosebumps to fade.
But it's time to turn us off.
I'm so sorry for letting you love me.
******* for making me love you.

Do something to make this easier.
Hit me, curse me out, cheat and get caught.
Accept that I'm leaving and understand
it's not going to work out.
I wish I hated you.
I wish I could make you hate me.
It's never easy I suppose.

I don't even think I'll miss you..
So why is this so ******* hard?

If you still care
Don't ever let me know.
If you forgive me
For breaking your heart
And for leaving you behind
In that ****** town
Of addicts and death
Don't ever let me know.
I'm coming to visit
During the bitterest month
And if you see me
Don't say hello.
I'll never forgive myself.
I'll never let you know.
I'll always love you.
I'll never let you know.
I'll never let you know.
I'll never let you know.

The growth of a child-
never accepted.
She tries to intertwine
among her peers
only to be rejected.
So she digs through her soul
to find she is not meant
to be a part of the grid.

To write, to write.
Even to write this, tragedy
finds the difficulty to be impossible,
unending.
The crunching sound of its bones with
no cartilage is
at such an eerie, unnerving volume.
The shrill nervous laughter
encased in dry shallow sobbing is
crippling.
To mutter the words that may carry
sounds of joy are nearly inaudible.
Conversation with a "friend" is a forked road;
One to speak and tragedy will hear.
A lover of the mind, a scholar of the scar tissue
or a prophet of misfortunes grasp
is the only reality for this
dear tragedy.
To sleep or rest these worn out eyes that
cannot escape the horror never ceasing to follow them,
would be a euphoric sense of helping oneself...
Now to make the sleep last
an eternity or more.

we spoke for the first time since..
and you're still hurting
and its killing me.
you're not understanding why
this is the right thing.
you don't want me to leave,
that's understandable.
but i'm not staying and you know it.
i miss you and you miss me but
this can't happen.
i'm so sorry.
i'm so sorry.
i'm so sorry.

I said I didn't think
I would even miss you.
But it's been less then
twenty-four hours and
I have a hole in my stomach.
I try to eat and it just
wants to come back up.
They say wounds heal in time.
I leave in 82 days for
another time zone.
Maybe the hour difference
will effect the time and
healing process.
Until then we'll see how this goes.
Maybe this will help me
shed those extra pounds
I was so worried
you'd notice.

Why is it that,
now that I've found someone
who loves me,
I'm throwing them away?
You're the first to love me back
and the first to have me
completely enraptured
and I love you.
Oh how I love you..
But thats just it.
You're the first.
These are my butterfly days
and I will love again.
I am not your first love.
Someone else once held your heart
like you hold mine,
and crushed it.
In time you healed
and you will heal again
for I will recrush your rebuilt heart
because I'm leaving.
And mine will stay in your hands
until you throw it far away.

Sometimes it's not always morbid.
Sometimes I write when I'm happy.
Sometimes things make me feel good enough to write about them.
Those times are rare,
and right now is not one of them.

I thought maybe if
I let you go
a burden would be lifted
off my shoulders.
Not that you were the weight,
rather that I knew
what was coming and
the thought of leaving it to
the last minute
was eating me alive.
I had to weigh my options
and decided;
if I left it until the day
I am to leave this island,
it would hurt more
with no opportunity to see you again-
to maintain friendship,
to cope with our loss.
If I waited,
I might have changed my mind
and stayed.
What a mess that
would have been.
I wont let anything
keep me here.
Not even the people I love.

Second day with out you;
I made sure
I got myself incoherent.
I am now experiencing
my first real hangover
as i deal with
day three.

You say you love me.
You don't know my biggest fears.
You know my favorite band.
You know my favorite color.
You don't know my dreams.
You don't know my greatest struggles.
You don't react when I tell you
I lost my virginity by force.
You basically tell me it was my fault.
You say you love me,
You say you love how I feel
when you're inside me.
You say you love my eyes.
You say you love my ***.
You say I'm ****.
You tell me to turn that **** off
when I put on a song that
makes my heart sing.
You criticize my ideas
and make me feel stupid for
even thinking in the first place.
But it's okay right?
You said you love me right?
I believe you, right?

I haven't written in a while.
I feel thrown off.
I'm in this mode where my ability to
write how I feel
has been cast off.
My mind is filled with Manson playing
in the background of this coffee shop
in my new city of Austin.
And all I can write about is how
I can't write.