I got stuck on the lines in your head finding my way back into your bed. Your melody doesn’t sound as sweet when you back out from feelings you already exposed. Fall out and climb your way out, I’ll be stuck here for only so long. Fall apart and crawl away, you cracked me inside and so everything fell apart. It’s raining inside my chest and I just want to feel loved. Don’t give me sympathy and give me a moment to breathe. I think I’ll be OK. In times like these we tend to give away our poise and composure to win back something that was never ours. Letting go is part of the process, and soon enough I’ll be gone as well. I’ll be claiming my own miserable cell and sooner, I’ll be out of this hell hole. Time heals all wounds, but it won’t ever get rid of the scars your hands rested on my heart. Slip away from my memories and slip away from my hand. You’re only happy when I hold you, and I’m only happy when I’m loved. Take your time and move away, go to another state and you’ll be OK. I need you to be fine because above it all, more than what I want you, I want you to be fine.
I’ve given myself up far too easily, and I’ll dedicate myself with my pen. Give away and never take back, time is just far too easily controlled for me to set the span. You’re the star, baby, and I swear I’ll give up Heaven to implode for you. Watch the stars spell out your names, and watch the neon lights pour into me. I want to break in the worst possible way. I want to fall apart and start again. I want to give in and out of the back of your car. Give me your lips and I’ll give you my heart. Let me fall apart when you say “That’s enough” and the rain will pour into you, but you’ll never get rid of the taste of my kisses ever. This second lasts forever. You’re my roman candle heart, and you will set off just soon enough.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
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a writer- i should have known.
ReplyDeletefor what it's worth, your heartache looks pretty on paper. isn't that enough, some days?
only sometimes. it mainly feels like my writing is the sewage of my dreams and aspirations. i only want to smother my pain, and writing seems to the trick just fine.
ReplyDeletethank you, though. sometimes i don't appreciate my writing because it seems to only be meaningless hormonal grumble. i only write it all away because it lets me numb and evacuate my heartache. isn't that how it always is, though?