I guess I can't re-use titles, that's pretty lame after all.

the age of no turning back

bad ideas and worse decisions

and this incessant need to rhyme.

shit.

I told myself to come back to the world I used to know,

a world of hurt and word vomit.

I'm just going to keep writing 'til I feel better.

fall asleep, or am sober.

Whichever comes first.

Noone here will judge me,

in my world I can do no wrong.

Perfect me, my perfect self.

Dream big.

With my alice complex and delusional ideas.

Love and pain, so intertwined that they're the same.

Breathe it in like its your last breath of air.

Taking the low road, hope to see you there.

I once said I only write when I'm miserable. Hello truism, we meet again.

Its far too late, burning the midnight oil over tired hearts. There is a drip, drip, drip of pathetic desperation setting the rhythm. I keep dreaming of the wrong you. A rot, slowly eating me away inside. I can't eat, I can't sleep with out thinking of you. I feel consumed. A slow smoldering flame. I am twisting, writhing, grinding to this dance. So frustrated and wound tight. A repressed corkscrew of guilt, in the pit of my stomach growing stronger. This war rages on in the chamber's of my heart. A viscous battle for happiness that leaves a path of misery in its wake.

sleep is your worst enemy, but the only escape from all the pain. You've built your walls so high that you can't find your way out. Just dull grey bricks, day after day they are all the same. Reminders of each mistake. they've burned into the back of your eyelids, and everywhere you looks its like ghosts that haunt you. I worry for you so, and only wish that I could do more.

I make myself sick. It tears me up inside.

blackberry stash. (mmm tasty)

you smell so good, but how do you taste?

I should be sleeping, but I guess I was hoping you'd miss me and call.

I have very little life, but way too many excuses it seems.

There are papers everywhere. Its such a terrible mess. There's dust and clutter on every surface and I'm anything but dressed to impress. This house is sinking into my thoughts and fucking everything up. If this isn't a side effect then I don't know what is. worthless thoughts. worthless things that just get in the way.

I'm the Queen of keep it simple, or maybe just lazy. A copyartist with pride in doing it all on my own.

Ultraviolet

im performing a solo meant never to reach your ears. these little dirty secrets really arent so little, actually rather infulencial. im ultraviolet inside, you only get the whole picture when the lights go down. Paper thin walls echo the sounds inside my head. everything glows, at least for a little while. I was born blind, but in the dark I see. (well.... figuretively)