the novelty fades
along with the glamour
sprinkling down like a cheap glitter shower
a spring shower;
soft
creeping along your hairline with the smell of light lilacs in a secret garden
dribbling wonderfully through a greasy scalp
one of the most ****** showers that’ll take place for a while
leaving loose indentations and wet feet and a swirling drain clogged with six years of hair
i should have thrown myself a line
now there’s just stale-smelling rooms and a lost little creature
rich in words
shallow in talent
its mouth is a river and help help it’s drowning

my head’s turned to mush and my heart’s turned to stone
i'm a rock caught between the spokes of your bike
twirling and whirling my hair brushes the ground with the bumpity-bump-bump of each rise and fall
it's hot down here, so close to the pavement
worms are frying, they better watch out,
or the rubber sole of a midnight wanderer will eat them right up

also your feet stink I would wash your shoes if I were you 

i wish i wish i wish i wish
i wish i could make words fly from my tongue and spin worlds and not cower from the unseen
i wish i could melt through carpet and slip through cracks in the concrete
i don't want to be anymore
being is hard
i would be satisfied with a nonexistence
no more bridges to burn or heads to crack
no more bleeding eyes and empty shampoo bottles that cost too much and run out too early
no music that will get old
no glasses that will drain themselves
no more trying to fix something that isn’t there
no more pathetic musings
no more tear-stained pillowcases and forced laughter through one-way glass
goodbye persona 182
you were beautiful while you lasted

loving you is the most exhausting thing i've ever come to know
not because the feelings aren't mutual, simply because you are unaware
the constant curiosity of what you think
do you think i'm broken? do you think i'm naive?
my lack of confidence and your stock of mystery is what keeps me going
maybe this is a game i don't want to end, maybe i want to admire you from a distance, like the way some look at the sea
my tendencies are starting to go out of control
i've counted the freckles on your nose and i know that you tap your fingers when you are at a loss for words
i come up with these scenarios
these drawn out stories
the ones where nothing else matters except for us
notice me
touch me
love me

The road that paved way,
To pure hearts that is guided by light.
Gave way to the love,
That is unbreakable by rights.

And it cuts to feel inferior,
To hear the stories and build events,
When all you have is your passion,
This music tears your heart to pieces.

A sudden feeling of vague insecurity,
Tortured heart ventilated through puff of smoke.
To know you are the most opposite,
Tendencies  your mind notes.

Standing on my own
My mind rushes ideas no one wants.
Killing thy self with fires,
Playing music yourself cannot dance.

Memories and scripts,
Realized and clearly intertwined.
Can't wait any long
Left alone and tired.

Heart is wounded and broken,
The stories are heard.
Funny how the one you love most
Is the only person your tears deserves.

I miss my first love
like a train I was supposed to catch years ago
I've made my home on the station platform
because now I'd rather just watch the trains go by
I miss my first love
like an appointment with a doctor
that could have diagnosed me with the early stages of loneliness
and cured me right then and there
instead the illness settled in
and every day I'm treating the symptoms while I search for a cure
I miss my fist love
like the bullseye on a dart board
I don't even feel like playing the game anymore
and my throws are getting more and more wild
getting stuck in the wall and the floor
I miss my first love
and the way I loved when I didn't know what love was
no tricks, no strategies
just me, and her, and whatever that was when we were