"This stays on the low, he would never approve"
and as many times as we promised ourselves we would never change for a guy, we have.
"the old me is back", you claim.
perfect.
spinning exhileration beyond our control is all we will feel.
no excuses. no need to explain. we are who we are as we smoke under the ever forgiving sky.
We count the stars and are reminded of the past.
it was so easy when we didnt have to be someone we are not to impress someone who wont even be around forever.
i turn to you and we laugh so loud, and our sounds float into the crisp air, dissapear and is forgotten.
this is not the last time, we promise eachother, but we know it will be a long time.



"what are you doing?"
"waiting"
"waiting for what?"
"something to happen..."
"like what?"
"Something better than this"
"...."
"Like a meteor crashing down and killing me."



"I love you" you whispered, and for the first time I didn't hear it.
for the first time I don't need to hear that you care for me, or anyone for that matter, I needed the physical, and it was on high demand.
we wrestled with sin for a short time and you repeated youself, I wanted to urge you not to talk.
I pushed you away.
and I couldn't tell you why, but for some reason all I could see was her, and all I could smell was her, and all I could think about was her.. And you were thinking about her too.
pushed against the wall holding back forbidden tears that I have held back for far too long.
thank god it was dark, and thank god you couldn't see.
you asked what was wrong, and I lied, pushed my sick jealous emotions aside.
"Please," I begged myself, "just tonight. Just tonight...
I can talk about it later... I can contemplate it with myself"
"Don't lie" you knew. You knew my mind was ticking and pulling me in a million directions.
its cant ever be the same, unlawful words have filled my heart with love and sorrow all at once.
I cant beat her, she has you. Every ounce of your secreted love.
tears streamed in the back of the empty van, and it was only empty because half of my soul has left me, and your mind was some where else.
Suddenly the van became full.
"She's here" I whispered "She's ever haunting, and she's here"



Aching butterfiles always took over my stomach at the same spot. im heading to you. you know i am, and you are excited for far diffrent reasons. you selfish ache for skin on skin was always apparent, and i would brush it off for love.
random messes skattered the floor, comforting in a strange way, you would leave it to stay for another while, as if the pieces of your broken home could never be mended.
you told me that this was the end of your line, well, dear previous one, its never over. this will continue to hurt, and will be never ending untill you stop pretending.
I too know the pain of a broken, shattered home. And I too know the comfort you take in feeling loved for one night, and rolling over to an empty bed, and even more empty feeling in the morning.
The night seems to rob us all of our dignity, and the morning shames and painful reflections in the mirror are so unforgiving.
You continue on with your misleading life, and tell me what its like to fill the gap of loneliness with a diffrent face every night.
Stay at home and wait for the music to inspire you to lead a diffrent life.
But you always play the same tunes.



There are those, I know, who scoff the idea that real love can exist at such a young age. But for these two, however, it did, and it was in some ways more powerful than love experienced by older people, since it wasn't tempered by the reailities of life.







We sprawled across the blankets for hours, being ourselves. Being young and in love. Being all we had to be.
not once did I dare move, and not once did you lose grip.
who knew?
screeching cars out side collided, an omen you said.
an awful one I believed...
a perfect one, you knew.

22 long days have come and gone.
and my darling, I love and miss our goosebumb infested embraces.



Falling sickness over painful words.
Tripping over myself.
My eyes must be failing me.
Every part of me hurts.
And mentally, I'm falling apart.
I'm not worthless.
But god, she's beautiful.
And me?
My outside intrigues you,
but my thoughts and truths horrify you.

I know what it's like to go through days of pain and misery for few hours of feeling completely wonderful.
And when it's you, it's so worth it. You loving me entirely is the best feeling in the world. To feel beautiful, both inside and out for several small moments of my long life, is worth all the pain in the world.
And even the devastating worthlessness seems worth getting over.



This isn't who we are. Why, we have become monsters.
Screaming out profanities, and hoping for sweet remedies to save us from what we've become.
my god, I love you. And even the sick words that fall from your lips engage me.
you are able to hurt me like no one else, my love, my hope, my sanity.
take everything I've said, and everything I'm about to say, and disregard it immediately.
my words of hate and spite are lies, im falling downward and I've got your hand.
don't fall my love. You are the only one who is grounded, I've let this get to my head.
I know not who to turn to, you were the one who would tell me what to do.
Please, tell me what to do. This means too much to me.
I love you so much, I would never want to put you in a place you don't want to be, and if you don't want to be with me then don't allow me to believe you do.
This cant be all in vain.











I dream of you waking up entwined in the hair of perfection.
breath in and smell the scent that is not mine, but you smile nonetheless.
turn and wake to a familiar face, but not the one casts the same shadow as mine.
im slowly reminded of the weekend that first brought us together, and as slowly as it came, its is quickly changed into you falling in love with someone else the same way you did with me.
lets not joke anymore. im upset enough as is.





we know we've set the record stright.
we laugh in the face or their whitty comments that sound much beter coming from 12 year olds, and their cocky smiles that only come when they are behind the keys.
oh yeah, we know, you prefer to attack from behind, with sharp knives to the back, and two faces.
and you called yourself a friend.

We bid you a sweet adieu, "Please, go burn in hell."



We question our motives, wonder about past wonders.
relapsing is more frequent, as we try to break the past, and clear our memory of the habits.
I feel like once this is over, im going to wake up in a padded room wearing a straight jacket.
they're begining to notice now. And I find we're getting more distant.
honestly, its making me sick, feeling im the one to blame for this waking sickness, and wars.
we thought the past couldn't touch us, but here it comes, darling... Run faster with me. Please, don't let it catch up.
im being threatened with a knife to my throat.
id love to scream and tell you.
but nothing escapes my terrified lips.