05/09/2023 10:23 PM  love letter(i f***ing hate loving you) I feel like drying paint. I'm healing but I'm so vulnerable. I'm cold and scared. I'm shivering and I'm lost. This is a love letter you won't ever read. This will be burned, immortalized in my head. This is desperation, this is growing tired, this is forgetting my own self-worth.  It's hard to stop listing your emotions, especially when you don't know what you're feeling. It's hard to feel around you or maybe it is hard to not feel. It is a sorry story, dude, I'm a sorry story. It's the taste of vomit in your mouth after a few too many drinks. I wish I could avoid you, but either way, I'm thinking of you. Either way, you've f***ed me over. I have a way of bottling you up in my head. Your eyes, your f***ing smile. I'm tired of this back and forthing. Tired of asking if "I'm worthy?" The more you hate me, the more my heart is beating. One day you're sweet and patient and another you're distant and cold. How can I fall in love with this kind of person? I guess I have my ways. Always had.  I have a way of romanticizing people. I turn their dull colors to burning flames of blooming flowers. 0 Comments

[ This blog post is viewable to friends only ]

[ This blog post is private ]

[ This blog post is viewable to friends only ]

04/24/2023 10:10 PM  He's the Best Rock Song Ever Created and I'm the Witty Lyrics Rainy days shower down here all year. It's constant cloudy season. It's just always that dark gray and that rainy day stink. You hear the patter on the windows and the roof. It's just lightning and thunder. Constant white noise. The weather affects my mood more than anything. I feel like I'm the rain. I'm a puddle of apathy. I'm not a liar. I don't try to lie anyway. Especially to myself. I won't pretend I'm happy, especially when it comes to you. I'm sure you mean well and all. But like the soggy weather, you f*** with my head. Everything I was sure was certain crumbles to bits. I can't say anything, I can't even think. I feel so weak, I hate it. I'll live just so he could see it. I'd write it so he could sing it.  It's hot and humid. I can't be bothered by the weather, but I break a sweat around you. First its ignorance then its admiration. Flutters of colors fill my brain and I'm in a trance. I'm in the background and he's on the main stage. I'm silent and still. He's loud and laced with the bliss of being him. I'm a man of very few words with him. I feel like he's all that needs to be said. His character is well-written complex, but sweet and simple. I feel like I'm lagging behind in this race. I'm stuck in the cards in his hands. I begged for the day to pass faster, for the sky to turn blue to gray to black. I prayed for the cool breeze that comes with the dark gloomy dark. The night is an easy way to get out of things, even if you love those things. It's an easy escape. The stars are ghosts, ghosts of mistakes, ghosts of unbridled cut-short dreams of painters, writers, and lovers. They wither in the night sky because the sky is safe. The sky doesn't feel the same since I've met you. It feels like what it is, a graveyard.  0 Comments

04/20/2023 10:11 AM  If it's all without meaning, what does meaning even mean? The sun is the world's spotlight but I feel the moon is only focusing on me. It's trying to not play favorites but can't seem to help itself. It leaves traces of moon dust on my hands. It smells like tulips and Fall's last rainfall before the turning of snow in winter. I can't help but be grateful but this is hurt. The moon isn't cruel just dreary. He's always around the corner, but never really there.  He's puppeteering me, but I really can't help complying.  I'm walking on the shattered spikes of my own mistakes. I dig the hole and I'm too frightened to lay in it. I'm on a high,  six feet in the ground. This is a dangerous slope and my hopes are splinters in my brain. I hold onto him dearly. It's a kind of queasy cozy feeling that comes with him. Is it okay to feel this way? Is this normal? When he is away, I miss the way he talks. The frail moon carries his confidence on his back, and the confidence isn't faux, it's pure and unbridled. It's not fake like mine. He thinks he's the sh*t and he is, and it's like first nature to him.  He isn't flustered or ashamed. The moon doesn't pretend to be more than he is. My big plan is to be launched in his orbit. I've been stuck with the gravity and the trash of this planet. It's one thing to dream. To make it. I'd be his space trash. I feel blind. Cut off. Scared. Living only in the moon's loneliness. I feel proud, but trapped. It's the kind of thing you want to love but it's impossible. You want to feel good in the sun, but you can't. You think the moon is different, but is it really? The moon is lit up by the sun, you think, is it any different? It's worry. It's worry. Am I stuck?  It's worry, but is it enough? To leave. Is it enough, is it ever? His fingers dance in a way that makes me desperate. I want his hands and mine. I want to waltz in the starry sky. To our favorite songs. Till we fall dead. And we jokingly flirt and it doesn't go anywhere like it always does. It's comfort, really, its comfort, me and you. We do things over and over again waiting for a different result. We spin, we dance, we (almost) kiss, and we fall apart. Are we damned, sweet moon? Are we damned? Are we cursed to be apart? Or are we blessed?  Is living "without" you secretly lucky? Is me missing out, on this romance, meant to be? I am not supposed to fall in love with you? In this universe, are my feelings a glitch in the system? I feel like a broken bone, I'm snapped in half. Divided in the middle. If I wasn't meant to love you. What am I?   0 Comments

01/23/2023 12:48 PM  Bordering on Your Waterlines (WIP) to the skyline, bootleg atmosphere, I couldn't hit the ground harder. I wouldn't fall if I were you. to the coastline, imagine sweet summer skies. it's me and you, sweat, pure unbridled sweat.   0 Comments

01/18/2023 12:30 AM  Take Classes for It, Not Pills Current mood:  apathetic   my black corduroy jacket  your backseat promise  You say “it's not that serious” I’m on the edge of “I love you” we smell like cigarettes   but we don't smoke  its second hand  like my clothes  like your heart  You're puppeteering my thoughts I thought this was “no strings attached”? "if i lie my way out of this, what are my chances - (of still needing you)?” If i could cover all my corners Keep my defenses up I have my suspensions  Id still claw back to you You'd say its "pathetic" but im hanging to the hope you'll come around to the idea of loving me tell me that im stupid so i can know for sure place your lips on mine i need nothing more tell me that im stupid  so i know for sure  tell me that im stupid  so i can know for sure  place your hand in mine i need nothing more tell me im stupid  for the bottles on the floor!   0 Comments

12/18/2022 10:35 PM  let death do us part I picture me abandoned on a dusty unpaved road.  I see me breaking your heart, and you forgiving me (as you always do.) I'm not your perfect lover, but I can always see me, like a dog, at the feet of you. (I can't tell if its me or you begging for forgiveness, so I'll just ignore it) I write something down and hope it sticks (If teenage heart break could kill, we'd both be dead.) Let it stick, (Let death do us part.) If I'm bored of living (and bored of you.) Why do I need life to hold us hostage? (Let death do us part) 1 Comments

Previous12Next

View All Posts