Her insane beauty makes all of life worth living again.

You kiss my lips like how you kiss my heart.

He ignores me and
pretends I dont
exist.
but why?

just laughs
Like no other.
I wish she
Was mine.

i considered you mine
but you never were,
were you?

i wonder if the only thing worth missing about me are memories?

i used to wish
for you every
night at 11:11
but now that
i've stayed up
long enough to
even surpass that
time of day i have
realized that in
doing so, I have
wasted over 365
minutes wishing
for you to be
mine.

his smile is so nice
like the sweet smell of christmas
or a surprise snow day
even the sunrise can't beat that smile of yours
mhmmm....
you remind me of christmas morning.
a child's face, excited for the presents.
excited for the belief of Santa.
excited because you know
someone cares for you.
i get excited everyday because of you.
excited for the presents of your presence.
excited for the belief of you.
excited because i know
you care for me
and i care for
you.

you are my christmas morning.
and that smile of yours gets me
everytime.

so limp,
so frail.
so dead.

inject potassium chloride
into me next.
please.

maybe that'll finally stop
my already dead
heart.

you know the only thing worse than hate?
indifference.

there's a lot of things that don't seem to make sense to me. but you?
*you make so much sense to me that I can't even see how it'd be wrong.

me: "Who said anything about liking one another?"
you: "Me"

and there's a lot of things you'll never know about this summer, but i guess its best to keep it that way. no need to dig my hole any deeper, right?

i don't like being still.
i like moving around,
making noise and
doing things.

i physically can't be
lazy anymore.
i can't stand the thought of
not being productive,
i hate doing nothing.

im not sure if this makes me
a hardworker or if this is
the only other way i know
how to cope with everything.

i just push everything to the
side and do a bunch of work.
constantly pushing myself into
stressful situations until i scream because
i like the feeling of being productive and
being someone my parents and teachers
are proud of and i dont know,
i guess thats better than cutting but
what if the stress becomes so much that
i can't handle it anymore and
then i go back to the
blades even worse
than before?

he told me that he was proud
of how well i've been doing but
i can't help but think that
its a lie and he could really just
care less about me,
just like my parents do.

he's dangerous, such a dangerous kind of man.
you can see it in his eyes, sometimes they almost seem evil.
while they may be soft, his hands tell a whole another story.
when his hands touch me, the darkness in his fingertips seeps through
and they stain me with black blotches and unheard of obscenities.
like a piece of paper, he writes all over me with a dark ink that cannot be erased.
everyone can see the marks that he's made, and those he continues to make all over me.
he is dangerous, and he is the ink that you see all over me today.

and you're a heartbreaker, but I'm not one to be *played

he deserves the best...he deserves everything in this known universe.

the Universe is expanding and so is my love for *you

if you're my heart, i wonder what i am to you?

Moving on is rarely never not accompanied by sadness and grief.

you calm my heart and remind me of who I am

i would still die for you
even
        though
im
           already
                


                              *dead

touch more than my body, and eventually you'll have that too.

You want more, but I can't give you anything more.
I can't give you a real relationship.
I can't give you commitment.
I can't give you what you deserve.
I can't, I can't, I can't.
You know this and you keep trying and I can't be what you want
nor what you need.

I want to cut open my skin with all of the "I love you's" left unsaid, because they're sharper than any blade could ever be.

i can still smell your cologne and taste the sweat on your lips from that day in the sun with the wind pushing us together; so close we were once upon a time, i wonder if i was supposed to learn from your lies or if i'll keep on smelling your scent everywhere i go.

You pulled me so close; how did you expect me to breathe?

I am a divine creation, a piece of God. How could I ever be undeserving?

baby, i know what i am and the life i live:
i sin and i sin and i sin and i sin.
don't act like we all don't know.
but there is a difference between
the sinner who works to change
and the sinner who just keeps
on sinning.

i guess that's yet another difference between he and i to add to the list

you probably thought i was dumb for looking at you like that,
but i couldn't even help it.

i can't help it.
and that's what scares me the most.

the feeling of an IV going into your vein is
quite extraordinary, you know.
they said i asked so many questions before i went under.
it's a nervous tick, something i use to distract myself.
i asked what that number meant,
what that needle contained,
what's the name of my anesthetic,
and so on.
up until i fell into my slumber,
i asked so many questions.

as the nice lady said,
"get ready, you'll really feel this one."
i smiled and said,
"finally, it's about time."
and all i remember is the colors of the painting
on the wall in front of me
mixing together till
everything went
black.

What I never was able to tell you was how ridiculous our fights were, and how I never realized it until now. I didn't care for those things, I cared about you and only you. I couldn't bear to think of a future without you because I could barely remember the past I had lived without you, but now that I have to endure it, I can only think of the time when love was more than a feeling and death was something less visible, less clear.

maybe you would've loved me more if there would've been less of me

I don't think that I'd mind the smoke,
I'm used to choking.

"you've said a lot of things that nobody has ever noticed about me and that makes me understand what you see in me."

Let's just pretend we don't know each other; neither of us exists.