it kinda makes me sad that i haven't typed anything on here in two months.


so much has changed, close to everything.

some for the better.
some for the worse.

keep your gaze straight ahead,
don't look back, dont look forth.
promise me, is what she said.
lock your eyes up at the north.

well.

i never type here anymore.
i've been putting it all down in a little notebook.
but i have a poem,
and i rarely write poetry on paper,
typing is easier.
you can backspace.

either way.

you had such a hold on me.
you gripped your fingers round my heart.
and held on tight.
i've spent these weeks trying to pry you off.
get you to release your grasp.
you haven't even been around,
but you've remained in this mind of mine.

well this is it,
the end,
goodbye.

i've taken those beautiful hands,
that held onto my heart,
and cut them from their wrists.

i'm no longer yours,
and its just in time.
if you don't mind,
or even if you do,
my heart is being passed on.

to gentle hands,
that hold on firm,
but not too tight.
these gentle hands,
won't crush my little heart.


...well that poem came out of nowhere,
i didn't even think, i just typed.
woww.

''Never knowin... what could have been...and havin so much to say, and watching you walk away''

''its four am, I'm waking up to your perfume, don't get up, ill get through on my own...''

so. It's four am, I'm laying on the floor of my grandparents house.
My ankle hurts so bad, its keeping me awake, so yes, I am feeling a bit sorry for myself. But now I'm so awake, there's no hope. every minute longer I spend awake, I hate it more. I know that I'm less likely to go to sleep. To wake up in the morning.

F.
M.
L.

Everyone in this family is full of issues. There's always so much going on. I'm on the backburner, permanently. Not that it's a big deal, I don't need their attention anyways. I actually don't mind being in the background. But I do exist. It should be mentioned from time to time. But I'd rather them not know my issues, my dad started searching through my room, looking for this coaster I had for him that I couldn't find and I freaked. I was like stopstopstop. He was like I can do what I want, I'm your dad. No, you can't. You can't dad.

don't mind me,
i'm just fading away.
don't let me distract you,
from this new life you lead.
don't worry about me,
i'm just dying inside.

Does it ever feel like you're still eight years old? That you're really just playing make believe. You don't really know how to be fifteen, you don't know anything about boys, or fashion, or cooking. You just pretend that you do, and somehow its life. I feel like I'm in over my head with all this stuff, like when will I feel my age?

why is it that we crave the affection of others?
but then when it stays, we feel like it smothers.
we want to be loved, to be held by another,
but when wrapped in their arms, we are fast to discover,
just because he keeps you warm, doesn't mean he's your lover
underneath this shadowed blanket, it's still cold, you uncover.