Stopped at a red light,
no one else around.

You roll down the window,
there's not a single sound.

You look into the darkness,
you look into the night,
you scream,
yah you cy
yah you scream

I wish I'd ******* die

April 14th
it would be so simple,
to step back into that dream

April 16th,
one class,
                monster +

April 17th (halfway) squirrel + Nat's BDAY @Avery? Gin + Tonic
Max is in the corner, coughing
up blood
world town above our heads
mushrooms and pipe dreams
sad poetry with your
guns up
birthday cards,
gin + tonic
your eyes never left
my face
couple of lovers left
__ before the sad sets in
I love the straight of
your nose + the set of your mouth
smoky lights outline
the night
guys are ***** w/ red
solo cups
sorry, he's too drunk
keep going till the
goldschlagger

locked out of our house
on our way to the angel's
kitchen

here's to Nat
tall like a tree
and just as wise,
quiet kind (and quite the friend)

Kady is almost here
Max left as I took my seat

here's to long silences followed by awkward conversation,
vague civility and hookah smoke,
wasted afternoons and drunken nights

I'm not sure why exactly that,
I thought things would end different for us,
You with your silver wings,
And me, here on the ground.
But that's exactly what I thought:
"Things will be different for us,"
God, how could I be such a fool?

You're all I think about it's driving me insane. You're all I care about, I wish I had never heard of your name. You're in and out of my life like a summer breeze through a house. You say you want a great guy but you just keep knocking me down... But at the same time you don't want me to date anybody you ******* ****. You just want me to be on stand-by while you go out and have your fun! but when the party is over and everybody's gone, you always come running back to me, but this time **I'm done.

i'm lost in a maze of gyri and sulci
tiptoeing over memories
triggering reflexes still out of my control
over an irreparable foundation
what is the use in trying to piece scraps together
when the final product is no work of art
but an unpalatable ******* of a thing
that once was called love