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When did I get into the habit of writing letters I'd never send?
Through the act of living itself, sadness piles up here and there. Whether in the sheets and pillows, the mirror in your bedroom, or the history logs of your cell phone. Through repetition you can only ignore so much. "Even now i still love you..." When did i get into the habit of ( Read more... ) -
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As for now I'm gonna hear the saddest songs, and sit alone and wonder, how you're making out.
And as for me I wish that I was anywhere, with anyone, making out.
It's been a long time since I've felt anything but numb. But in that concert hall between the screams and the whispers, our voices were lost to nothing and we were plainly insignificant. I ( Read more... )
