Counting the years through Summers alone, But I can’t take back those Winter’s of yours Those icy, blue days, I’m begging to change, Cause I know I’ll never call you home again. What am I after? What do I need? What will help to set me free? My memories linger, through bottles and rage And … Continue reading I have waited long enough, so please let me come home. Let me feel that warm embrace and call me to the pyre.
"You are a sunburn; you came with happy times spent in sunny days, and you left me with the coming of autumn and the bright orange leaves."
You know, I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to keep waking up in physical pain, throwing up my future all over my bathroom floor, replacing my bath rugs on a weekly basis. It’s not fun, and it makes me feel nothing. I don’t want to be nothing, but what else is … Continue reading The rush you once gave me has become a burning friction, and the years spent alone have turned my love into fiction, and nothing I ever do will mean a goddamned thing.”
It's never as bad as I think it is, until I take another look in the mirror. My stomach transforms into a pretzel as the realization "I can always get worse" really begins to sink in. The old scars are so faint now that if I avoid bright lights nobody could even see them. I … Continue reading “Tomorrow is where I placed all of my hopes, but I should have saved something, anything, to get me through today…”
I can’t cry anymore. I used to cry driving home every day. I used to cry in the shower, and when I laid down for bed. I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb my mind, so I wouldn’t have a free thought left to drift towards my unpleasant past, or at least the unpleasant … Continue reading “I am empty, but oddly enough, this emptiness feels heavy…it feels so damn heavy.”
There was nothing I could have done.. ~Do you really believe that? That there was nothing you could have done, nothing at all?~ I just wanted to be loved, to feel what love was supposed to be, that forever and always type of love that grows stronger each day, bringing smiles and family and so … Continue reading “Something is only considered trash because someone comes along and labels it as trash. So when I say I’m trash, it’s not that I’m inherently nothing, but after 20 some years of experiences, I can’t define myself as anything but trash.”
I want fortune to listen As I struggle with my speech, To flinch as the words reveal Scar after scar. My words resonate regret, And as all moisture Evaporates in my throat, Every note is coated In varying shades Of a screeching rust.