As I lay on your chest
I hear the soft beating beneath your vest
Of my my favourite lullaby.

You try to be mysterious.
You keep secrets; afraid of what I'll say.
You think I'll care about unnecessary things,
but darling, it's been 3 years already.
When will you see that all I care about is you,
not your secrets?

-A.A.

There's this little sweetheart who I work with and she's so awesome and sometimes misunderstood. She's a hard worker and she's fun and nice and good hearted and naturally cool and I really wish more people would treat her better because she's such a doll. She's just a little younger than me but we just connect and I feel like we're the same age and it just totally ***** that her rents are pretty strict and we can't hang a whole lot but at least we can hang out a little. Anyway we were cruising around last weekend after work and I'm loaning her my old iPhone because her rents are lame and took her phone away, anyway it has all of my music on it and we were just listening to music and she says "I really like this girl." And it was Lana Del Rey and I couldn't help but grin. Like I could just chill with her and have so much fun. The other day she brought me a mcchicken with extra mayo, just how I lIke em, while I was at work. She's just a really good girl and I want to take her under my wing and take care of her and also just have good times with ya know. Oh we could have some fun together that's for sure

I wake up.

Head to the bathroom and brush my teeth, wash my face, fix my hair.

I check my closet, rummage through the mess of clothes, grab my white t-shirt, black pre-torn jeans and clean underwear. Put them on and walk to my door.

I slip into my chuck taylors and grab my hoodie slumped over a chair.

I grab my keys and one last thing. Hung next to my keys is a smile. Worn and broken. Wear it like a mask hooked ear to ear.

The worst kind of suffering is the kind that is silent
Where you're left wondering where your voice went
Did it retreat?
Your words and their ears will never meet
Like a curse
You can't scream out for a nurse
And you can't ask if it'll keep getting worse
The water. Your lungs it'll immerse
The only communication is on your face and called remorse
It never ends
It never mends
You just give it an inner home
and accommodate for it to stay