Scared senseless

I am scared senseless. I bought a ring at zellars yeaterday. In the middle of it lay your heart. It was surrounded by diamonds of truth. The ring was gold, representing new friends. But, all I want is your face. This ring is pretty, but it doesn't fit me. The little child isn't happy with her piece of tin anymore. I want truth. I want honesty. I want you back. I want you back to stay.

I'm tired of being thrown out to the rain. Would you do that to me? Yes. You already did.

I'm almost as lost with you as I was without you.
I'm almost as lost without you was I was with you.

So I guess it doesn't matter if you come back.

But I did love you.

And if you leave...I loved you too.

Rings are retarded. And I hate honesty. At least, while you're around. Otherwise, diamonds are a girl's best friend.

I don't get why you hung up. We hadn't spoken a word yet. Your voice resonates through the back of my imagination. I feel your hands. I lick your face. I suck your cock.

Come back?


I LOVE YOU.

and yes, I know what that means.

Spearmint gum.

I just went to Zellars. Two retards stood in front of me in the lineup. No, I'm not talking stupid people. I'm talking stupid people that attempt to slow everything down, just so that they can get the price of their wedding dresses marked down. Arguing that they were "children's apparel" and that "children's apparel is 50% off!". Please. I might have just as well marched up to the counter and demanded that the ring I was buying myself as a pick-me-up should be 50% off too, since I'm still residing in my parent's home.

I'm sick and tired of the way that everyone pretends that they are God's gift to intelligence all of the time. The fact is, if they were half as smart as I am, they would keep their mouths shut. They would realize (as I do) that sometimes, not talking is the best approach.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm quiet. I'm not. I have a billion things to say and I say a billion things. The difference is, I say them because I have something to say. Not just so that I can be heard. That's why I only talk to my friends, or people I know will understand. Shouting out my opinion for no reason would make me feel unintelligent, because that's a lame thing to do.

To be honest, I understand why people wouldn't want to hear what I have to say. They don't know that I'm actually saying something.

There's far too many people out there who need to be †old to shut the fuck up.

Just About Everything

I feel as though I'm drowning in time.

You would think that in a world as shallow as a shower there would be room to breathe. You would be wrong. I'm swimming through stars. When I stand up in my basement (with the lights on), all I can see is my terrene. It is layered. Bright-eyed emotion floats on top of an otherwise black-ish blue measure of moments and memories.

I remember the night that my friend pushed me. She bruised my elbow. The gift of existence flashed before my eyes. I bet you think that it isn't possible for person to be knocked out because of a sore arm, but it is. I was pushed into a daze, far from the face of reality that I usually speak to. It felt great to be that punchy. The world slipped out from underneath my feet, and I didn’t care.

People often slide in and out of my life. We touch fingertips, and then they are gone and I never get the chance to really hold their hand, to know them.

That’s why I like it when our mouths meet. I stop seeing myself. Life stands still. Everything waits until we are done. Kisses are outside of time, and so am I.

Back when I was in elementary school, I heard that if a person’s lips touch their own elbow, they will switch sexes. Can you please kiss my elbow for me? It’s brusied, and I don’t want to be the man in this relationship.

liar

the truth is nothing without lies. the way your face curls around your tongue is almost as good as your kiss. and i like the way that you smell - even when you haven't showered.

the truth is, i'm not much of a party person. i'm more of a stay-up-all-night-and-talk-while-sitting-on-a-picknick-table-outside kind of person. i'm a gypsy who wants to get a van to live out of. i'm a writer with no one to write for. and you know what? i don't give a shit.

because i am better than all of this.

so go ahead. paint me an ocean. i won't drown. you know why? no, it's not because i can swim.

it's because i'm not an idiot. i can tell that this is just a picture. i'll paint my own.



so get out.

haha

my mother is hilarious. she just pulled me downstairs to tell me that she thinks i'm not intelligent. it's the funniest thing in the world.