Saturday, May 3, 2008

wow.

i know that as of late gracie has been
a.w.o.l. but my fucking god she is my
best friend. i love the meaningful conversations.
i think that somehow our energies are
fated to be together. thanks for being
there when my sky was falling. thanks
telling me everything and letting me
tell you.
now kad can swim.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Forgotten Love writes in red ink.

Blood.
Blood.

Blood gushing from vanity vessels- the veins.
It's coming fast.
It's a big one.
She grabs a towel wiping away the red love.
She gasps for air.
She feels dizzy.
She puts a bandaid on it.
It's her wrist.

It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
No one else is home.
She sobs.
She screams.
She regrets.
She hates herself.
Her love heals over.
The next day fresh love is romanced.
Other wrist.
Today it's in the shower.
It's smaller.
She hides it with a black bracelet.
She wears the love like a badge as if way into some sick secret club.
The cutter club
Those kids don't understand.
You do feel better.
The pain prolongs thinking about the problems.
Her forgotten love lasts two years.
Two years full of excuses.
She finds a pen writes better than a knife.
She finds herself a member of a new club where ink smudges and baggy eyes are the ticket in.
The late nights with no sleep and the insomniac dreams write better than a series of razor roadblocks on your unhealed wrists.
A girl you don't know makes fun of one of them.
a cutter.
She never forgets and always glances at the permanent scars embedded on those wrists, hidden from the surface.
i hope you choke on your own words and your eyes roll back.

rain kids.

Those kids who stand in the down pouring rain have names.
They have scars and stories.
Each one desperately living to be noted as sane.
We, the rain kids, call themselves friends.
But today's overcast called for showers with a sprinkle of lies.
The thunder booms.
They are all full of gloom.
Now we're overrated and overpaid.
Five day forecast- of nothing but backstabbing sun shine
and the fear of being upstaged.
The people at the broadcasting station smile.
Those kids once followed sunny ways and then this weater shift came and
rain poured from their eyes.
Now they lay broken and the only thing that remains are the puddles of pity and patheticness.
i hate your god damn phone.
i wish that one day i could kill it
and set it a blaze for all the times it's made
my heart break and made me drown in my shame.

love boat.

you and her make me seasick.
oh captain lean in on the starboard.
now my heart is now an open sore.
festering on broken love and the blood is
pumping through my veins.
one day i hope it stops beating and stops feeling.
Public affection is getting the best of the sea of persons
The lines are tragically hanging me and tangling me.
Every kiss on her cheek, makes me go weak at the knees.
I'll drown myself in sorrow and then, then tomorrow i'll
wake up with salt water burning in my eyes.
i hope that your love boat sinks and your girlfriend
will finally be the only one that cries herself to sleep.

Friday, January 11, 2008

here how it is.

i am sick of this.
hello 2008.
your just like 2007.

the people who helped me last year are ticking me off this year.
people who i hated last year. i still hate.

i'm losing her but we wont admit it.
so baby i hope you treat her right when you take her away.
and remember her favorites, dislikes, and relations.
i hope you love her but you'll never love her as much as me.
just take care, as i take impact in a crash.


I HOPE EVERYONE IN 2008 GETS THIS:
their own music. stop stealing mine and stop telling me you like it because honestly i dont care who you are. its annoying.
their own style. some things i'm known for. sure you can borrow my stuff why not?
just steal my expressions while your at it.
their own friends. i had mine first. i dont need you to need them .
their own wish at 11:11.