And II remember the first lie you said to meBut I think we can’t call it a lieBecause I didn’t believe you anywaysAnd II remember the first truth you said to meYeah, I remember hoping it was a lie.
You must love yourselfAnd you knowI finally amI’m finally able to wake up and look in the mirror and touch my face in it and say “hello beautiful”And smile.
ExcusesIn which I realize that 96% of the people I encounter and make bonds with will eventually become bored of me.And that when they do they will leave with entirely-too-human-excuses falling off their tongues.And that I realize I’d much rather you say nothing at all when you decide to leave.Excuses are just that, excuses, a reason to leave- you became bored, I became boring, I became a bitch, a hollow shell, I don’t talk much anymore, excuses… excuses… just get your shit and leave if that’s what you want.But I’d much rather you not waste our time by telling me why, when all it is are entirely-too-human-excuses.
Connectionyour voice is in my headand that is the way i want it to stay.
She could have lived til 90Words spill so quickly from her lipsWrapping around her pale throat like an intricate necklaceAnd as she rapidly-elegantly spits them- they squeeze her neckAt least no blood is being wasted as the words burn into her skin… And she can’t breathe for a while nowWhile the magic is finishing up- taking some of her life as payment.
Instructions On How To Leave MeIf you ever leavePlease don’t tell meJust kiss my sleeping browAnd set me aside in the place where we first kissedAnd I’ll know.
BlueThe deep ocean hueIs that which best reflects my mood.
i won't let you be a thiefMy thoracic cavity is like the lobby of an old hotel. In which the hotel only has approximately 13 rooms in all and less than half are available. However, you can see the condition of the rooms from the lobby and you can feel what each has to offer. Yet you have no access other than pressing your forehead against the window and cupping your hands around your head to eliminate the glare. And you’ll see that two or three keys are missing from the key rack, and maybe you’ll wonder who was allowed inside or maybe you’ll not, and you’ll leave.
MoreWith a broken heart- you’ll starveAll the love you’ll receive will drip outAnd constantly you’ll be ‘needing’ more.
to revere new lifeobeisant boughsmurmur blossoms into spring.
Unless You Take To Me With A ShotgunI’m a zombie at heartI guess it could explain why my love never dies.
I'll Never Grow TiredTonight I'm going to stop youon the porch, we'll stand toe to toethe way we used to whenthe pulse that thrummedquick and strong through our veinssang out our young, unbridled hope.Our eyes will meet and,just like the first time,I'll take a moment to run my fingersthrough your shining thoughts andcaress the sharp lines of your mind.I'll lean forward and press my lips ontothe the flower-petal curve of your self-expression,and that will be enough for youto take me by the handand lead me up the stairs.In the soft moonlight that filters throughthe trees and our gauzy curtainsI'll unbutton your fears and slip them from your shoulders,revealing smooth broad dreams. And,careful not to miss a single freckle of insecurity,I'll kiss my way down to the hollow of your throat,where your soft-spoken tendenciesrest among unshakable beliefs. Between the ridges of your ribs I'll count your worriesand smooth them away with my fingertips.Over the subtle curve of your hipsI'
you turned harsh with the change of seasonSalt stings icy cheeksas bitter sea-mist blowsthe lighthouse beckons.
the truth about growing up1. It's easier when you don't think.1. It starts early,on a cloudy day when you recallthe 'childhood memories' oftwo summers ago,that's when you start your backslide intogrowing up.2. On the bright sideyou won't notice this until you'regood and ripe in age,so maybe it doesn't matteranyway.3. That tightness in your chest?The feeling that you're not readyto take on the rest of your life; itnever leaves.4. It stews in the pit of your stomachmakes you doubt, but there will be days when you look backon the mountains you climbed -the raging rivers you crossed -and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you weremore prepared than you thought.5. There's nothing like your own bed.6. Laundry will never smell rightwithout mom's sweat and tears.But you still have to separate lights from darks,keep the zippers pulled tightand the buttons unhooked.7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.8. Things changethe future gnaws and rips
.he always wants the light onwhen he's sleeping, says he's scaredbut i can't see the point;i say not all monstersare trying to hurt you, at leastnot right awayand his bottom lip goesand he screams shut upbut i laugh and i tickle his ribsand then he laughs with meand he sayslove youand i say i love you toolittle man(i love you too)
mother did not hang the moonthe shallow cratersbeneath her cheekbones yawn.capture; reflect.creamy round features glow,basking in the light of her son.
.she never carried enough oilto keep her own life burning
two can play at this gamehelp.my heart beatsand my lungsswell with air,but I sworemy life wouldcease to beif I couldno longer callyou mine. pleaseforgive me.
one night standInspiration kicked me outof bed, threw myclothes-said, I'll call you-and moved onto the next.
AloneWhen I am alonein the darkness of my room,Sleep is approaching,but my mind's a labyrinth tooI navigate the pathwaystrying to understand:How in a room so empty,lonely I never am
they shall not make a soundWe were taught to string words together;thoughtless as tying our shoes, instinctual as breathing.write them down, sweet child, but do not let them pass your lips
Young LoveI was so youngwhen I first heardthe beats of my heartpulse lightly upon my ribcage;my toothpick bonesquite fragilein comparisonto the powerful palpitationsAnd I was still youngwhen I heard againthe throbs of my heartpound forcefully upon my ribcage;my metal bar bonesquite strongin relationto the butterfly-wing beatsSo you better hurry, boyas my ribs are becomingthick as steel,and you’ll soon need a metal cutterto reach my heart(And I don’t want to get damaged in the process of being loved).
RedLove and hateThey seem so far apartExcept when you look at themFor what they really arePassion and aggressionStrongest of emotionsThat both make you go blind
LoveWe say we love flowersAnd their sweet aromaYet we can spend hoursJust picking them upWe ask for their thoughtsAs we pick at their petalsAbout if he loves meOr he loves me notAnd yet we still wonderWhy nobody trustsWhen "I love you" is mutteredBut have we forgot? We kill what we love.
LullabyHush, my baby,Be still, don't cry.Lay with meA little while.Close your eyes,Slow your breath.Hear your heartInside your chest?Your heart is strong,It guides you well.Be sure to listenTo what it tells.I hear him now,Outside the room.It won't be long,He'll find us soon.Now close your eyes,Slow your breath,And rest your headUpon my chest.
NumbIs it bliss or oblivion?Hard to distinguish,Since both constitute infinity.Either serve as a temporary home,When the real world becomes too unmanageable,Sluggish speech, aching skeleton,Fatigue coursing through knotted veins.It's difficult to sayWhether I want sleep, death,Or something temporary to numb me.How about all 3?One after another.
A reasonNow I discern a glorious reasonin my wrecked heart,if I can only give youthe best fragment.-----Una ragioneOra io scorgouna magnifica ragionenel mio cuore spezzato,se posso darti soltantoil frammento migliore.
if i had common sense-If I had knownHow empty you would make meI wouldn’t have let you in.