slit your wrists,
and drown in your blood,
hold your breath,
while you wait for the flood.

i feel like i died.

i was right, it is dead. always has been, always will be.

i feel like i only update because it's something to do. i have trouble writing anything that means something to me here anymore. it just seems so fake, like a pitiful cry for attention because i know someone will read it, but that's not what it is. i don't know what it is. and if it doesn't mean anything to me, then i don't want to do it, so it ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

1. i'll never give up. never. like i've said, it's not an option. when i stray, a triple squeeze, or just you, will bring me back ( Read more... )

and i swore it to never be again
to never take hold of me again
and i failed
like so many times before
my morals washed away with ease
like memories of past lovers in the sands of time
i was washed clean
clean to feel again
clean to love again

i was wrong.

it isn't dead, it was just waiting in the shadows like the predator it is.

( i'll spend my last dollar on me )

Friday: school and weed, trains with mark, obnoxious punx, free shirts, ok dj's, almost getting caught stealing, dave, derek and the rest, more weed and getting lost with mark.

Saturday: work, a cold shower, work again, michele and becky and sam, eating more pancakes than i should have, jamie's, graff lust, rock-sittage and keeping each other warm.
( Read more... )