Dear "Love",
You're slowly slipping through my once tightly closed fingers. You're dripping onto the floor, creating a pool of hatred that grows by the second. I can't look you in the eye anymore, I know you're secrets. I can't honestly say I need you, because I woke up today not thinking of you. I can feel the very fibers of my being getting ripped from your once tight grip. I can feel my lungs fill with new air. With a fresh beginning. I'm torn. Torn between this familiar feeling, these damned butterflies, the calamity inside my head and a heart that isn't aching for a hello, a sleep unriddled with nightmares, a life not full of empty promises. "Love", like an ocean's sweet surrender...drown me once again because soon, soon life will wash me ashore and we will be apart for good.

Signed-
"Forever"

Some days more than others
I miss being complete.
But then there's those days
I dont give a fuck how broken I am
todays not that day
Today's the day
the day to listen to old songs
and let tears drop on ink smiles
Todays the day to remember the past
and forget the future
because if I dont know where ive been
I have no idea where to go

Right now I'm lost
torn between what I'm used to
and what I could have
between familiarity
and a monstrosity
but Im learning
to walk the path less taken
even if a rut trips me
and I land square on my face
i know how to right myself
maybe not immediately
but soon enough

&&When we all turn 18...we suddenly turn into prophets.
We have all the answers. We're never wrong.
But really, we only have knowledge. None of us have true wisdom.
We are at a cusp in our lives, between our childhood and adulthood.

So hear me fellow soapbox prophets.
Step off your high horse.
Let the world humble you.
Because tomorrow.

Someone else will fill your place.
But you,
You are unique.
You can't be anyone else. No matter how hard you try.

slowly....
i grew up.
























And that fairytale....

The smell of you, in every dream I dream....



















Meant to be together but not that night.

He loves you.

There's no way he can't. And I'm being serious.

ps my farts smell like tacos but I didnt eat tacos today....

Why do we do the things that make us cry? Is it to feel alive? Is it to remind us that we can feel? Or is it a sadistic pleasure?

I read Dax's journal on Caringbridge every time there is a new update. (His mother Julie updates us on how shes doing without him and such) But I don't stop there. I go through the pictures too. It makes me cry, every time. I know it will make me cry and yet I still do it.

This ain't goodbye...this is just where love goes.

Ugh I hate being here. And I hate being alone and I hate my laptop. I'm on my itouch right now. Cried my eyes out and now I'm dozing off a little. I wish someone would text me......anyone. And as soon as someone texts me it's something upsetting I think I deserve a break and a little respect. But I can't seem to come by either.

Know what I want in life?
I want someone to leave love notes to. Someone to wake up for and regret going to sleep for. I want someone to kiss away the dull throb between my temples. Someone to smile and make my heart melt. Someone to ask me how my day was AND CARE!! Someone that will accept that I am raving mad, embrace it and run with it.

Someone to come home to. Someone to call home.
Someone
Someone
someone
someonesomeonesomeone