Oh WhyLet's just,cut to the chase,where do you stand?Are you with me,against me,pressing me up,against this wall.And oh God,why does this happen.And oh God,why do I always feel this way.Where do they stand,are they with me,for me,against me,to the side of me,standing with me?And oh God,why does this happen.And oh God,why do I always feel this way.Do I stand alone,always,on my private oasis,or,are you with me,pressing against me,to the side of me,or just sinking...And oh oh oh God,why does this always happen.And oh oh oh God,why do I always feel this way?And oh oh oh God,are you with me,are you there?
Doesn't Make SenseI wrap his sweatshirt around me, before I head out side, just so I can be "close to him" I didn't expect it to be so cold, so I have to run back inside to change shoes. I start to walk on the sidewalk, the cold air hitting my bare legs. I had hoped that perhaps it would make things feel real, make me feel like I wasn't in a cloud of surrealism, but it did nothing for me. If anything, it reminded me of December. The cold. The dark, the sidewalk. The sweatshirt. How things played out. It always returns to that day. What happened. It's the bases of everything. Maybe not everything, but, it started a whole lot, and it can always start a whole train of thoughts, or always be found in the the thoughts. I walk, continuing on in the cold, hoping that maybe still, I'll start to feel my feet in reality. My thoughts pester me, I think to much. My thoughts surely revolve too much around him, for what they should revolve around. And sometimes, I think I'm not worth anything, and how should I know w
Smiles Can HurtThe laughter that passes my lips,and into your ears.The smile that,lingers on these lips,the same ones,that you once kissed.But now those kisses,are only a dream.The memories,are faded,to a dull gray.How I wish I could have,just another week,another month with you!I miss you terribly.To the point of,almost physical pain.Yet..yet,I should move on,put the memories and feelings,into a box,and store it away,so that some day,I can take it out,and analyze it,after any,and all wounds are healed.Maybe then,I'll see the wounds as beautiful,or maybe I'll see them,as ugly reminders,of a bad forgery of love.But,the thing is,I don't want to let go.I can't give up.What if,what if this is true,soul mateness,what if we,really do belong together,cause we keep getting pulled,together,or maybe.this is just a,one way feeling.'cause you never tell me,you never really tell me,how you're truly feeling.
Best YearsThey say,this are the best years,of your life.Enjoy them,while they last.Bask in them,drink all the times up.Yet,I feel like these are,the worst years of my life.Freedom with restrictions,feels more like a prison.A terribleness,that is different from,what my childhood was,surely all about.I think,I'd like to say that,childhood is the best,years of your life.The innocence.The unknowing love.You lose that,as you grow older.I know I'd,love to go back,to the days where,I spent my time outside.Summers jumping on,hot black trampolines,not worrying one bit,about skin cancer,as we,my best friend and I,played from 10am,to 4pm,pretending that we were,characters in our favorite TV shows.Card Captors,Pokemon,Digimon,Salior Moon,and Dragon Ball (Z)Now,I've lost that friend,somewhere along the line,I'm not sure where,she's disappeared to.And now,I'm to old to pretend,that I'm a character,in a TV show.I'm to old,to spend my time outdoors,playing p
Peeling SkinI'm ready to,crawl out of this skin,and peel the layers,piece by piece from my bones.Hide me!From my past.I swear,it'll come back to haunt me,if I...well,If I can't have what I want.Because you know,things are always ok,as long as there's,togetherness floating through the air.Yet,I feel so empty,so void.Useless.I wonder,is this flesh unwanted?Maybe the bones,and muscle underneath,is a bit more desirable.Are my thoughts?To out of control?Do I need to,tone it down?Because you know,things are always ok,as long as there's,togetherness floating through the air.And,I've forgotten how to run,and how to forget.What is this thing,forgetting?But you know,things are always ok,as long as there's,me and you,and you and me.But you is definite,at least not yet.So now,my favorite thoughts,no longer turn to,rainy days,sleeping under the covers.But to,the image,of skin peeling from the bone,like the skin from a chicken.Leave me down to,a skelton,and