You can tell a lot about a person by listening to the way they talk about someone they once loved.
Loving him is like trying to hold onto an armful of balloons. Maybe I need someone to come along and pop them.
I have imprinted on you and all those miles between us only keep us apart because we let them.
The Smiths dream into my ear on this lost and lonely morning. I sing along like it is the only prayer I know (forgive me, Mother Mary).
We’re so infatuated with studying labels that we forget to read between the lines of one another.
What I mean is you make the world less ugly just by living in it.
If only I had known then the speed with which she could die, maybe I wouldn’t have become the hemlock.
Are you using your pain as an excuse or as a source of strength?
Don’t ever let anyone keep your heart on a shelf just to take it down whenever it is convenient for them to feel.
And all the while I thought I was drowning, I was actually the one holding my head under the water.
My favorite nightcap, after all this time, is still the cocktail of you.
The listlessness of it all, the profit off depression, the extinction of an entire species, the chlorinated connections- poisoned just to appear clean.
I’m slipping. I’m made of departed dreams and a stubborn fog that feels nothing like a veil.
If we are simply energy, neither created or destroyed, and if a body is just a body, celestial or not, why don’t you come over here and we will make collisions out of moments.
I dressed the part and slipped into my Sunday best. I peeled open the heavy doors to every church I could find.
The love we shared is a paper town on a map we drew ourselves, drunk and fucked and needing to be more than we were.
Standing on the doorstep of desire, I hold this bouquet like a gun and these vows like a petition for the death penalty.
The thing is, she’s got heart, a colossal, mesmerizing one. She gives me a green flash love, the type you are rarely lucky enough to see but when you do, your entire sky is changed forever.
Blood banks are all closed; you can’t use others to keep you warm.
I’m just a broken person looking for other broken people who may have gotten shards of me stuck in their feet and aren’t too concerned about pulling them out.
This is not new territory. Stop lights like lullabies write my eulogy.
Next Page »
