sometimes i get a feeling that there's some bloodthirsty holiday monster that's out to eat my heart.

leading up to the heart-out-of-chest horror movie scene, it plays my puppeteer forcing me to hang out with couples constantly and dredge through my gauntlet of failed relationships studying why it was me and not them that caused the whole thing to go horribly wrong, crash and then burst into flames that you could see from space.

and the more i delve into my past, the tighter its gnarled fingers wrap around my chest...

sometimes i miss that moment when the beach was black and the horseshoe crabs scared me shitless.

it never gets any easier. being alone has it's ups and downs and i can feel this moment of weakness like a cold wind cutting through to the bone.

but do i miss them or the idea of what they stood for, for me?

i'd rather have a life much unlike mine, but similar enough to know it wasn't a complete lie. gotta start pumping the heartbrakes on this one.

sometimes this is nice.

just this...

there's a fire behind those eyes. but somehow still cold and undetectable.

she's knows that she's beautiful. but still she remains lost like stray fragments of a broken mirror.

i see you by the limelight every night when i close my eyes and feel this fire scorching everything inside of me. a fire that never quite turned to embers. it still keeps me warm in a way that has turned more to pain than to comfort.

now what am i, but the fractions of a person i once was. halves and thirds and fourths, counting down like i'm serving the sentence of a half-life. breaking down my hazardous pieces until i have no fiery spirit left to show my wit. until i'm just the ashes too black and feeble to be rekindled by any new pieces of dry wood and leaves.

what i want and what i need will always be two separate things completely unattainable at the same time. i'm beginning to deal with that.

in the end, all I'll truly ever have are my words.

it feels like my soul is fucking constipated.

everyone makes their peace. everyone moves on. everyone except me.

i just want to see horrible things happen to you. watch a mugging go wrong, maybe you didn't look both ways when you cross the street. any way it could happen, let's just let it happen. misery loves companions.

is it possible that somehow, explosives were smuggled into my chest and set off like a fourth of July celebration? and here i am. none the wiser.

i feel like my life has just become a sad rerun of itself.

and just like that, i can't breathe. when am i going to get passed it and grow up? i spend so much time waiting for tomorrow instead of making my own. and i can't help but live in the past...

fuck, i need a drink and some brain damage.

you ever notice how easy it is to act like you care, when you really don't. but comes those few times when you give a shit, it's even harder to show just how much...?

do i have issues or am i just lonely? it'd be nice to have someone to occasionally tell me that things would be okay and i could buy (or steal) flowers for... instead, there's just me.

Just looking for a little luck, maybe a dash of courage. Why is that so hard to come by these days?

I know how to make them fall in love (somehow). I know how to make them leave. It's the keeping them around that I've never been good at.

Life is like a poorly built box, sometimes the bottom falls out.

"Heroes" has been stuck my head all day.

you ever get that sinking feeling?

yeah, i get it all the time, too.

"Oh, how the vain are easily swayed." I guess they meant me.