two and a half

nine days.
nine never ending days.

they say cats have nine lives.
makes me thankful i'm not of the feline persuasion. i'm bored with the one life i've got.
bored. dull. lethargic with living.

everything's been done / said. everyone worth knowing has been known a thousand times before you ever get close.

i'm stuck in a time warp. back to the future of god-knows-where.
someone keeps turning back my clock. this is groundhogs day.
this is where the path forks off to two dead ends.

this is hello, goodbye, and everything in between.

birdsong

i've realised that i'm only ever lonely when i'm surrounded by people.
when everything's been said and done, we can never be original.
i play games of asphixiation just to get drunk on the adrenalin.

sometimes i take you for granted.
i miss you.

no thanks

i was thinking back.
back to first times; worst times; those 'i-wish-i-could-forget-you' times.
you say you regret only what you haven't done -
but what if the only thing you haven't done is make good choices?
this is a downward spiral, baby. words and promises can't save me.
there's so much i want to say. sentences coated in honey - or maybe this is tar.
"tucking fibs into a cookie jar"

i can't tell you, because the only thing i deserve right now is to carry my skeletons on my back.
this is my world. and even i don't want to be a part of it.

want to hear a secret? i flinch when people move unexpectedly.

you know why. you just don't care.

shush, darling. we can just keep modelling our perfection on trainwrecks.
it's the only thing we do best.

running with mirrors in our pockets to watch our own backs

i think god hates me.
everytime i step into the street i half expect a thunderbolt to come tearing through the sky and straight into my sorry excuse for a heart.
hoping for and waiting for are exactly the same things.

to the two people who are doing god's job for me:

J. why? just when i'd got my pretty little head to listen to my not so pretty little heart, you just waltz back into my life.
and you're so much better than last time. "you don't know how mesmerizing you are, do you?" sorry, kid. this girl wasn't built for broadway. applause isn't my forte.
and somehow i convinced myself that i'd left you alone with your own finale. apparently we've just stepped straight into the encore performance.
and i think i'm playing the trick on myself, because i'm torn.

but then there's you, S. there's always fucking you. just like me; always just left of right here.
we're the photo's on the back of milk cartons that everyone notices but never reads. our tongues are foreign except when we speak.
how does it feel to be someone's everything completely?
yet we both know only bad things can come of this. you and i, we destroy everything that's beautiful, just to say we could.
i don't want to be my own worst enemy anymore.


the world is at a crossroads.
which way to turn, which way, which way.

kick the ladder from under her feet and film the fall

nature, or karma, is kicking me in the head.
forming a fucking noose round my neck.
imissyoumorethanicouldsay.

my mind is the M62 in a thunderstorm.
your fog lights are broken. boys and girls fight monsters in closets with torches.

maybe we just have to grab the words and run with them.
(but i never could get it out, could i?)
tellhertellhertellhim




i still love you.
i never stopped.

sorry.

about a girl

we just can't ever quite work this out.
i smash mirrors, and shout, and fight with myself -
running in circles never helps.
your mind is a maze, just waiting to be mapped.
these bruises on my hands are just waiting to be noticed.
but you'll never see this.

you'll never want to.

gold rings mark the start of everything we'd burn down cities to say.
i'm a skeleton key. or just an experiment in a laboratory.
so, what did this ever mean?
sometimes you've got to breathe deeply, and let your heart be opened -
but mostly you've got to realise that if you were invisible no one would notice.

i'm chasing canary's in my head.

turn up the silence

life's made up of things your heart is breaking to say, and your head is aching to stop coming out.
lips bruise almost gently.
instead, they spill out into lyrics or lies, falling across a page in ink or blood or whatever we could find.
you have to let people in to see if they're really worth trusting -
i tried it and was left teary-eyed and disappointed.
is this all we have? is this all we'll ever have?

witches hold futures in their hands.
i throw diamonds and glass into the sea -
worthless but pretty.
sums up everything i kill myself to be.

i'm tired of falling.