And just like a lightswitch
Im over it. Over you.

Pull the trigger for me,
                                            
                                                        
       ­                                     *I can't do it myself.

right now all i want
is to curl up under the covers
with someone who is taller than i am
and smells like cologne
just so i don't feel so painfully alone
and then i will be able to drift off to a sweeter sleep
than i have had in too many weeks
with candied dreams and waking up in warm arms
that's all i really want
now is that so hard?

I want you in the rawest form.
I want you while you're crying on your bathroom floor unsure of your worth.
I want you naked in my bed with your legs shaking from exhaustion.
I want you while you're angry and throwing everything in your path voice as loud as it can get.
I want you happy and dancing to your favorite tune at 3am in your underwear and my t-shirt.
I want you in your most vulnerable parts.
I want you in your strongest moments.
I want you all the time.

It sounds ridiculous but only I feel productive when I'm doing nothing.
Sitting back, just relaxing.
Popping blue beans, burning bowls of green.
And just thinking.
Daydreaming about how things could have been.
How things could still be.
But how things will probably be.
Just close your eyes and let music be your guide.

Entire lives constructed and played out
in grand fashion. A world so detailed
I would rather get lost,
And never come back to this travesty of a society,
so raw and primal.
so human.
My world is so beautiful and yet so depressing
because it's what ours could be, but never will become.
Anything to distract me from this.
The 24 year old burnout grinding through school because there aren't many options left.
So where will I'll be in 5 years?
I wont.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.