Listen.

You know that moment you get hurt? Truly fucked up emotionally.
Then the other moment you find someone that might fuck you up...but
you are becoming mushy just thinking about them? And you know how
you DON'T want to tell them how you feel EVER...because you're afraid
of getting hurt? Well...don't listen to me. Take that risk.

Icky Stream Of Consciousness.

The day has come like the day will always come.
The moment you know you're going to end up
not living on planet earth anymore. Poof.
Proof. You'll disappear. Tis does suck. No?

Faulkner. I like Faulkner. He doesn't follow the rules.
Aren't rules meant to be broken? I feel icky.
Really icky. I hate knowing that one day
I am going to die. I keep questioning myself.
My talent. My abilities.

I feel like I'm not good enough in this moment.
In this second. I keep comparing myself to others.
Why can't I be more like this? Why can't I be more like that?
Yes. I have some self-esteem issues to overcome and I was
doing so well. Today -- I just don't feel like I'm doing as
well as I was doing. I've been through a lot.

Bullied. And hurt by the people I thought loved me.
The last thing I want to do is bully myself. I went
through a good phase of believing in myself and
I am not sure why -- all of a sudden...I am doubting myself.

Death. Scary stuff.

Gravitational pull is a concept I am not fond of.
Nor am I fond of the notion of confusion with
the gravity of the magnet inside of me pulling
me towards you. Have you TRIED separating
two magnets once they bind together?

Yea -- sure, it's possible to take them
a part but what happens after? They FORCE
themselves to be back together don't they?
It's almost like one can't be alone without the other
because if it's alone the other gravitational pull
to make that magnet a complete "whole" is gone.

You're my fucking magnet you idiot.
And I fucking love you.

What. If.

What if I told you I wanted to "fuck you like an animal."
What if I told you I wanted to be inside your mouth.
What if I told you I wanted to wake up to see your face right beside mine.
What if I told you I wanted to hold your hand -- every step of the way.
What if I told you I cared for you and wanted to just be with you.
What if I told you I didn't give a shit about your past.
What if I told you all I want to do is hold you tight against my ribs.
What if I told you I just want to see you smile.
What if I told you I want to look inside you -- and I'd still love what I see.
What if I told you I'd break all the rules for you.
What if I told you I loved everything about you.
Your tattoos. Your crazy hair. Your piercings.
Your lies. Your cries. Your guitar. Your cigarette breath.
Your whiskey musk. Your painted lips. Your un-painted lips.
Your slanted smile. Your chocolate eyes. Your adorable nose. Your little dimples.
Your enchanting hugs. Your mesmerizing kisses. Your hypnotic touch.
Your irresponsible fickleness.Your cut-up bruised fingers.
Your dried, cracked un-moisturized lips.
What if I told you. What if I told you
I loved you?

What would you say? What would you do?
Would you run away? Just like you did
the day I kissed you?

I think I might be crazy.
Just a little crazy in love with you.
Damn it. I fucking love you.

Out Of Breathe.

When I think of him, my heart begins to beat
faster and faster. My hands begins to shake,
my face heats up, my feet turn cold and
my body begins to feel weak.

When I think of him. I need to catch me breathe.
When I think of him, I can't breathe.
When I think of him, I remember our
night together. My fingertips clawing.

I didn't want it to end. It hasn't
reached the time to say goodbye.
It has only reached the time
to say, this has got to end.

My heart is calling.
It whispers I'm falling.

I Will Break.

I am so sick of being in this
little cage that she puts me in.
I am so tired of being put up on
this pedestal that I DON'T
want to be put on.

I am not perfect.
I am nowhere near it.
I make mistakes and I am
fucking HUMAN.

I might hit rock bottom, I might
not reach that point. Who the fuck knows?
AND WHO EVEN CARES??

We live to LIVE, we don't live
to be sheltered in this little cage.
We live to BREATHE and
be ALIVE. What is the point
of living if all we are doing is
trying to just survive.

I am so fucking sick
of living in this bubble.
I need a way to escape.
Now.

Smothered

I beg you. Let me go.
I can't be in this prison any longer.
I want to scream, and I want to shout.
But no one will hear me.

I'm smothered by you.
And by you I am smothered.
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate
you...to an extent.

Let me live dammit, and let me be.
I'm young only once so
please, I beg you.
Let me go.