All I can write about lately is writing or thinking and it's kind of ironic because they go hand in hand... so I've been feeling like I've been holding onto the same set of hands for too long in fear that they're the only hands that have ever opened up in my direction. At least recently. Or maybe they're the softest, or the most comforting. Maybe they're the hands of the man that I love. Either way, I don't think I ever want to let go of these hands, and I think that's okay. I think it's okay to find a home and coin it your own. Why wouldn't it be?

I can feel you,
I can feel you staring into my soul.
I told you those eyes have abilities untold.
Stop looking into my eyes like depth is what you want to see.
You will never find the girl I was before this world took her away from me.
I want to find her too, you know.
I tried hard to keep her young and innocent,
But there’s a contagious shiver in this world
That we will never quite get.
I could tell you things get better, but everyone lies.
And if there’s one thing I won’t be, it’s everyone by surprise.
‘Cause everyone is everyone. and everyone is fake.
And everyone is everyone, and everyone’s too late.
You are everyone, and everyone can look at me like you.
You can’t be anyone if everyone knows how to be anyone, too.

Just because you didn't die when you talked to Death that night,
that doesn't make it better, doesn't fill you with life
Just because you did not really leave,
doesn't mean it meant any less to me...

You died in my dreams that night instead of real life,
but that didn't make it any less real when I woke up.

I write too much.
I think I write too much.
I think I think too much.
I think I write too much cause I think too much.
And I think I write too much about thinking too much.
I think I think too much about thinking too much
And writing too much that I just don't know what to think.
I think I'm gonna think myself dead.


.....I think

I don't write like I used to and I think it's because I'm starting to hate myself

The kind of words that drive themselves into your brain
The kind of words that make you re-analyze everything
I read them over until they drove me insane
Well these words are my contentment with pain,
I've seen so much, and now I feel nothing
I've created dead things from something living
I swear I didn't mean to, though
It's like something bit onto the inside of me
And it won't let go....
We're destroying everything
Including the skin between teeth and bone
I'm destroying everything with words I didn't think I knew
I'm destroying you with my words, too
I'm tired of talking to myself