For My Personal Amusement

"You deleted me off Facebook! (sounds offended)"
"Yea, I did. You also unfollowed me on Twitter."
"Yea, because your tweets are stupid and extremely annoying."

"Do you have anything you have to ask me?"
I sit there, wondering why I'm listening to this lecture in the first place, "Uhm... nope, I have nothing to ask you."
"(Gives me a look of denial) Are you sure? Don't you wanna know why I dumped you?"

"You have a lot of insecurities and no self-confidence in yourself.  Believe me, I know. It's not the reason why I broke-up with you, but it is."

"You see, (notions to his malnourished body) I went through this... health curve. And (notions to my body), well... you didn't."


And my favourite quote of the night:

"Okay, seriously though, why do you think I'm an asshole?"

Who Doesn't Know Your Name

It feels good
to,
wake up laying next to
the hot naked guy with tattoos,
who doesn't know your name

I'll never understand
why you like your coffee cold,
or,
or why you said "I love you" so soon

Wine Well Wasted

Tonight
could have been the perfect night
to be alone.

In My Dream Last Night

You looked me straight in the eyes
with a cold deadly stare
and merely shrugged
unable to give me what I wanted.
I felt you watching me
turn and walk away

because even though you knew I needed a better answer
secretly you want me to turn around and say,
"You're the only one that I've got."

But These Things I Do

Why do we take so dearly
The things that keep hold of our hearts
And make us do unexplainable things
And feel emotions that make our stomach's churn?

Why do we express it
With words that sound goofy
Or words that cause pain
Or words that persuade bed companions?

How can something so naive
Be both good and bad?
And why do we dismiss it from those who give it the most
And desire it from those who don't give it at all?

Why do we hang on to it when it's no longer there to hold?
Why do we do that to ourselves?
How is that even possible?

Why do I write poems such as this?

Why do I still care?

Fooling Death

Only the good die young
So let's break the rules
And cheat out this game the reaper has us playing

Itinerary

11am wake up call,
head hurts.
"It's time to get up."
Roll over
itinerary of thoughts begins.
To Do:
get up
live the day
and hurry back to bed
as soon as possible
before the inside takes over
and tells you to do otherwise.
Roll over
stare at ceiling
don't cry.
"It's time to get up"

Victory is the Conquer of the Weak

This is a game

I know it

Don't think you've sucked me in.

But the moment you loose interest 

Will be the moment of your win.

For now I've got your attention
And it's me you come moaning to.
So continue
Play harder
And let me play along with you.

Power

When you leave
and I can still smell your cologne on my pillow,
I know my dreams will be bittersweet.

A Haiku

I cannot decide
if you are good or bad news.
So choose one okay?

Mental

When I'm feeling pathetic I talk in a british accent.

(read previous sentence in a british accent)

Bandages

My cigarette was snapped in half
So I fixed it.
The elastic in my winter hat fell out so,
I fixed it.
The strap on my purse fell off so I fixed it, and the batteries in my alarm clock died so I changed them and I fixed it, and the zipper on my sweater keeps getting caught so I keep fixing it because
That's what you're supposed to do when things are broken.
You fix them.

To know that something is so out of your power,
And so beyond the point of wreck and damage
Scares me.
To know that there are people out there
Friends as close to your heart as your lungs
That are unfixable
Terrifies me.
There are no bandages to dress on wounds
Because the wounds aren't even visible.
They are hidden
They don't even give you a chance to fix them.

It's not fair.

You're Hot So Why Not

Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, I'll fuck you too.

Bright Screens

We're like a fight club
That ironically agrees with everything as one
But in reality exists as two.

If we are caught
They will discover our unkept feelings
That don't really exist
And they will know before we do.

But,
The first rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club.

It's Selfish To Wonder Who Will Cry When You're Dead

I have no where to be
So I stay in bed
Inside
Under the blankets
Staring at the wall
Wondering what it is
That makes me not want to leave
And not want to get up
And hope I will sink into the mattress
And disappear
Into another reality
Where things are better than the last 5 years
Because 5 years of crying myself to sleep
For reasons I don't even know,
For trying to remember the moment
Things changed,
For wondering
Wishing
It would just
Go
Away
Clearly isn't working out for me.

It's selfish to wonder who will cry when you are dead
Or feel sorry for yourself
But you have those thoughts anyways.
At least you can admit those are real.

Surgeon

"I spent the Summer on my back
Another attack
Steal you just to get along

Turn off the TV, wait in bed
Blue and red,
Something to get along.

Best, finest surgeon
Come cut me open."

~ St. Vincent

New

It is a new year
New beginnings
New friends
New enemies
New blog

Old feelings.