Blood
Running in the veins of every one of us
Without it, we perish.
But bleeding is bad
Never let someone know you have blood in you
Lest they faint
Remember, kid
You bleed because inside you is blood
But nobody’s looking for what’s on the inside

I’ve known little love
And I know my love very little
All I know is
When you held me
I had a home
When I looked in your eyes
I never wanted to stop
We stared for just a moment
Just a single second
But the world left us
I wanted you
I want all of you
Hold me like that again
And I’d accept any flaw

And of your eyes, begonia skies like a sleepyhead



There’s things I haven’t been open about. In truth there’s a lot. Some may know how I’ve gotten here, but I can’t say a single person knows why. I don’t completely know why myself. Wearing your heart on you’re sleeve is a good way to remind others you have one, and a better way to get it broken. I always say I’m an open book, and I like to believe I am to those who ask the right questions. How can I expect a question from somebody that doesn’t have any context? Why post something like this on a public wall?
Maybe
Just maybe
Deep down
I want someone to ask me why.

I never did call you mine
I can't remember if I wanted to
or if that was another lie you told me
I haven't thought of you in a long time
today I read the poem you never thought id see
and it brought me back.
you cared about one person,
you said you loved me,
but it feels like an afterthought now
You loved her so deeply you bled
You stained the walls red with anger

but for me
you just closed the door
You didn't cry for me
so why should I

I never thought I'd find myself writing about you again.
goodbye.

letters letters
letters on the page
we strained to find meaning
but all we found was pain