It's hard to explain, the thought, the bad things. They don't cross my mind, they flop down and make themselves at home. It's not the simple fact of the matter. Mom thinks I'm moody. Dad thinks it's "teen angst". Whatever the **** that is. My sister can't stand it...
Isn't it beautiful? It is... Absolutely wonderful. What ones are your favorites? The bright loud ones. They always have something to say. I wish I could be up there among the colors, and the beauty. I'm already there. Without me? Because of you.
Kinda a part three, kinda not. I've wanted to write some... Less completely depressing things for a while now. So here's this cliche! Yeah...
(did you like that one?) the iron makes it all turn this red-ish orange color, kinda like the blood running down our arms as we're running down the streets as our fireworks work their magic above us
**** yeah babe I'm a firework 'bout to burst through the sky in a brilliant flash of emotion bringing happiness to the couple sprinting through the streets