by this point my cheeks were red and the trees yellow. now I never had the right to say I didn’t believe in anything. i saw and felt and conquered everything.

i don't know when my wardrobe started fitting into one backpack, or when it started consisting of nothing but flannel and hankerchiefs. my hair is glued together by wheatpaste and i love the smell of my sweat. this is the lifestyle i've chosen.

I ruin most things I touch. But I have the best of intentions.

I don’t think my sanity is up for being questioned yet; maybe my level of compliance.

Its awful that I know you are full of wonder and beauty, but you only divulge to me your outer layer. I am sincere, but you look at me too closely; always. I've hated your big bright eyes for so long now; enough to draw me in.

Just found out my first love got engaged. I shouldn't be this sad?

I’m collecting addictions, all while throwing out convictions. Remember when our skin was innocent and inkless? Our laughs were fueled not by whiskey but by the fire inside. The words sound silly coming out; I felt more comfortable in my own skin then. The wind from the ocean is the kind that I miss. On nights as still as these, I find myself ( Read more... )

will forever be a fuck up

I reach out towards people. I put in an effort- much more of an effort than is ever received on my end. That in itself makes me lonely. just lonely ( Read more... )

Two cigarettes to go. I choose the lucky one to light up on the back porch. It is a winter night that is as bright as a summer's day. The shadows of the leafless trees dance on the freshly fallen snow. It is enough moonlight to mesmerize.

I am okay with it all.