Love:

How little she knows me, loves me all the same

Hate:*

If she knew more, would she hate me like before?

I want to find poetry
in media theory
I want to find poetry
in philosophy
psychology
sociology
I want to find poetry
in the bored line of zombies
walking these streets
9 o'clock every ******* morning
I want to find poetry in
the kid scratching himself out of his skin
in the creaking chair beside me...
His voice: muffled with aggravation
and his eyes: red, sad & exhausted
They make it hard
Hard to see the beauty in this place
I want to find poetry in the distance
I want to find poetry in missing you to death
But it all just kind of blurs together
in the hot Philadelphian sun
reflecting off the pavement beneath
my tired feet
It all eventually just gets lost in the gutters
next to cigarette buds and the green glass
debris of old beer bottles all over this city
Nothing really looks like poetry
Anymore
And I'm scared
Scared I'm losing myself
Surrendering my emotions
Or trading them
For some title that says,
"Yeah. She's literate"
Because that's all it really adds up to
Pretty ******* literate
Pretty ******* bored
And definitely boring
I don't wanna be boring
And I don't wanna be bored
Don't let me lose my dreams
Please
Please don't let me go
Go this way

As I think what it bin ,
as I smoke upon this gin,
Keep on tryoin never win.
this game is lame this move is sick,
what way no where?
Oh-             what to pick.
Inhale the false fale ,
    so good gowin my luck...
          with *** give not a ****.
this road is so bumpy , unstable I'm stuck.
  on my own finally out of the shelter   dearly jesse mckush, <3

The sadness is engulfing me
The walls are closing in on me
Sadness, hurt, and anger permeating the air around me
Choking me with their intensity until I'm on my knees
No sounds to be heard other than my cries
As the pain seeps into my veins bursting through my skin,
Tears of blood run all over me
I'm on an never-ending path
Just me alone, loneliness as my friend in this dark and
desolate place.
No light is ever seen, no happiness left.
All there is, is the dark path in front of me with walls that
close in on me.
And pain and sadness in the air engulfing my very being

I am sorry I have not been writing..

The thing is, that until now, I've been kept busy with boys who have refused to leave my thoughts like a bad song stuck in my head

The thing is that the song was once good but now it only makes me sad,
the thing is that songs aren't as good when you can't picture someone in the lyrics.

The thing is, that you can only quote John Green to yourself so many times until all the words start to get painfully relatable.
Because "Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than the stories and people we're quoting..."
Because "thats the thing about pain, it demands to be felt"

The thing is that it gets hard to filter your feelings
Because everyone gets tired of not feeling good enough
Because everyone hates a good reason, and a clean break up
Because good and clean makes it hard to be angry
Because sometimes you really need to be angry
Because you cant cure a broken heart in five minutes, you can only lie about your pain tolerance

" You can love someone so much, but you can never love people as much as you'll miss them"
The thing is, that in the morning, I had never felt so empty before, I was not aware I could miss him that much
I think it was better this way, but I think it was worse too

The thing is, I missed out on all the possibilities, well we both did, but I care more
The thing is, It hurts because it mattered
The thing is, I can only pretend to forget

The thing is, I'm tired
The thing is, I haven't written because of him
The thing is, I've written because of him

The things is that there are too many things to say, and not enough courage
Because I'm a **** liar
Because you're a good friend
Because sometimes ****** things happen
Because sometime you cant always come up with a good reason or even a decent excuse, because thats just how somethings are right now and you cant talk yourself out of feelings
Though you sure can try.
The thing is I know I'll get over it, of course I'll get over it
The thing is I can only put so many things into words
Because this has made my head hurt with metaphors and one liners that he simply does not deserve.
Because it feels like I am busting at the seams with phrases that I've been collecting for weeks.
Because its late
Because I am tired
Because My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations.
Because you and I had a rather small infinity

A wink,
In a church, from a man serving me the blood of Christ,
My stomach turns, remembering the discomfort.
A wink,
On the street, from a man of a different generation,
It was the first time I felt like a woman.
A wink,
On a picnic blanket, from a man I would soon fall deeply for,
I wince; I’m still piecing the shards of my heart into a recognizable mass.
A wink,
In a hospital room, from a man who held me as a babe,
This memory is more precious than any jewel the earth could offer.
A wink,
At any time in any place can mean nothing and everything
Depending on how it’s remembered.