"my dear, i believe it's time to let you go.
         my dear, i believe it's best if we stopped talking.
  my dear, i'm sorry but i have to go.
        my dear, i don't think i'll be back."

and with that, he turned on his heel and walked away from her headstone,
and out the graveyard.

he had found a new love, and didn't need to visit her anymore.
so why did he have the feeling he'd be back the next day?

darling, i wish you hadn't lied when you said you loved me
darling, i wish you hadn't broken all your promises
darling, i wish you loved me the way i love you
darling, i wish you'd considered my feelings
darling, i wish you didn't make me so sad
darling, i wish we could've lasted longer
darling, i wish you cared more about me
darling, i wish i didnt love you so much
darling, i wish we were something again
darling, i wish i made you happy enough
darling, i wish you didn't like someone else
darling, i wish we could have been even more
darling, i wish you hadn't hurt me the way you did
darling, i wish you'd been more careful with my heart
darling, i wish we could have done everything we planned to

there were pizza and grapes on the counter
i couldn't choose which one to eat

i know pizza is bad for me, but i like it
and i know grapes are better for me, but i prefer pizza

so, i went with the pizza.

and now, im hurt.

Sometimes writing
is my only link
to sanity,
my last-grasp handle
between this crazy
every day world
and the world
I want to see
and want to
believe can be.

There was a girl lying on the floor,
she was covered in blood,
her skin sliced by his blades.

There was a girl lying on the floor,
she was covered in bruises,
her skin tarnished by his fists.

There was a girl lying on the floor,
dead and ruined.

She was ruined by what she thought was love,
and killed, by the man she thought loved her.

but he didn’t love her, he loved his canvases.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was lying on the floor.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was covered in red,
painted by his blades.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was covered in blue,
painted by his fists.

There was a canvas lying on the floor,
his canvas was ruined, and overused.

He needed to get a new one,
since he loved painting so much.

He always had a smile on while painting his canvases.

Someone’s talking

I see
their lips
moving

But
at the same time
I dont.

My mind
is telling me
they aren’t real.

But
they’re right there

Aren’t they?