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.