(no subject)
Dear You...
It's late and I just watched you leave in the rain.
I hope that you make it back to the city okay.
The truth though is that I just want to cry.
you looked so adorable "I'm nervous to drive"
then you asked "Why do you think like you do?"
"What's inside you that makes you do things that you do?"
First I just laughed cuz I thought it was lame.
but I guess theres a lot of things inside of my brain...
For starters its Highschool and cups of nyquil,
and making dom test those hag bike ramps that we built.
It's you writing me love letters on menopause paper.
It's when you called me FIRST from your brand new Razr.
It's pissing in cups for fucking Mrs. Cortez.
and me having a fight for every word that I said.
It's the stairs in Grandma B's house
and trying to look down Miss Rudolph's blouse.
It's how I overheat when I'm in bed
and how I stab pencils in my arms to break off the lead
It's the face I said you always made just for attention
it's a million-and-fucking-one saturday detentions
It's being scared shitless to grow up, for no fucking reason
and trying to hide my tears so nobody sees them
It's not breathing and feeling my stomach clench up
and being told I'm a failure if i dont catch up.
It's missing class to spend hours inside my own head
where it's much safer, or so Id like to pretend.
It's trying, FOR YOU, to not be so unstable
and memories of you dancing up on Lipsky's table
It's how 3 channels of TV was my babysitter
and the first time she called me to tell me he hit her
It's getting my shit stolen from Nazareth Police
and not being able to drive through philly in peace
It's the hospital, you brought me super nintendo
but i still had to watch fireworks out of the window
It's eating lunch by myself for a year and a half
my only friends were my headphones, my ears, and the grass
It's M-80s in mailboxes, watching them blow up
It's holding your hair everytime you threw up
It's Empathy, Sympathy, and breakfast at Tiffany's
It's the way my jaw dropped the first time you went down on me
Fuck, It's the first time I saw you that day
and then a year later youre spitting sprite in my face
Its Jamie's phase of calling everyone blokes, psh.
It's your paintings, your letters, your hugs, and your jokes
"You don't get them?" I live for them. Love Them? I need them.
It's your mom smacking me and calling me (of all things) a cretin? ha.
It's sex with you just blocks away from pier 39
It's watching the breakfast club a thousand times
It's my little LA vacation, too much masturbation
and trying to keep you away from the drug scene at Nathan's
Being hesitant of showing you all of my creations
and my inability to hold a relation
They either cheat or get up and leave when they're bored
Or I make up an excuse to not talk to them anymore
I'm afraid they might realize that I'm not what I seem
what i lack in esteem I make up with drugs and moans and screams
It's compassion, yeah, but I don't fake it with you
It's every time you get strep throat I buy you a book thats new
It's my dreams about demons, and your screams about semen
It's when we both left for college, and damn I was fiendin.
It's the night up at Kostenbader's when we had the bonfire
I had no idea SHE would be there, but you still call me a liar
It's pizza night instead of your dad's OK cooking
and lip-synching Nas raps when nobody's looking
It's holding your hand on the streets of insanity
and Carly's persuasion, alcohol, and vanity
It's his 'n hers corndogs at the Phillies game
I stayed in Nazareth for 3 summers before you finally came
It's a reunion with way too many emotions
and seeing you in your bikini for the first time at the ocean
and buying fish hooks from that guy with no thumbs
and getting lectured for smoking until I cough up my lungs
It's you actually trying to hug me to DEATH
and hearing you say "Hella Duuuuude" "Sike" and "Thats Fresh"
It's winning cutest couple, at the tressel blowing bubbles
and every time I'd go out you'd yell "KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE"
It's you getting kind of upset when I call you crazy.
but then you go and steal a book of names for babies. (we were 17)
It's melodramatics, RYAN HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT !?!?
It's me getting in fights and you rubbing my back
It's me going behind your back with the drugs, and Im sorry
It me spraypainting your name in a heart while we swam in the quarry
It's the gay poses you do with your friends in portraits
and you winning at Mortal Kombat only because I forfeit
It's how I say something is "sooooo fucking you"
and its a good thing baby, I SWEAR (honest, I do)
It's when we laughed til we cried cuz Chris won Porn King.
It's ok if you stopped reading by now I know that its boring.
I understand you, just like you understand me.
except for that time I smoked peyote and i talked in 3-D
It's the visible man, it's the tell tale heart
It's the park and the dark and "ice box" and card shark
It was being scared of gun fights when i was just a kid
and talking to Lyle about fucked up shit I did
Its pouring my heart out through the tip of a pencil
and getting you only on weekends like a rental
It's what I said to you once, I KNEW i shouldn't have said it.
and of course it's red bridge, but I still don't regret it
It's my ego being crushed, it's your cheeks when you blush
and me getting this all out, I'm really trying to rush
It's the fact that I'm stronger when you're close to me
we conquered schmauder's and now the world, hopefully.
It's the smell of your dryer sheets that comforts my nerves
and when you cried and I laughed when that nigger got stomped to the curb.
It's the fact that I knew my dad wouldn't write.
and the fact that hes dead but I still sleep at night.
When you came to Penn State, I wanted so badly
to grab you and hold you and fall in love with you madly
Instead it's anxiety mixed with sobriety
Insecure that you'll leave without saying bye to me
Insecure thoughts that you'll leave me alone
Insecure thoughts you won't answer the phone
It's dumb bitches stalking me, Its my dreams mocking me
It's being drunk at Spuce's and you still jump on top of me
It's knowing but not telling you how badly I've missed you
and waiting for the next chance that i get to kiss you
So what it is it? that makes me do what i do?
I guess to sum it up, Des, its you.
But there's one part of this poem that isn't so sweet.
There's a reason that Pete rhymes with defeat.
I lxve you.
It's late and I just watched you leave in the rain.
I hope that you make it back to the city okay.
The truth though is that I just want to cry.
you looked so adorable "I'm nervous to drive"
then you asked "Why do you think like you do?"
"What's inside you that makes you do things that you do?"
First I just laughed cuz I thought it was lame.
but I guess theres a lot of things inside of my brain...
For starters its Highschool and cups of nyquil,
and making dom test those hag bike ramps that we built.
It's you writing me love letters on menopause paper.
It's when you called me FIRST from your brand new Razr.
It's pissing in cups for fucking Mrs. Cortez.
and me having a fight for every word that I said.
It's the stairs in Grandma B's house
and trying to look down Miss Rudolph's blouse.
It's how I overheat when I'm in bed
and how I stab pencils in my arms to break off the lead
It's the face I said you always made just for attention
it's a million-and-fucking-one saturday detentions
It's being scared shitless to grow up, for no fucking reason
and trying to hide my tears so nobody sees them
It's not breathing and feeling my stomach clench up
and being told I'm a failure if i dont catch up.
It's missing class to spend hours inside my own head
where it's much safer, or so Id like to pretend.
It's trying, FOR YOU, to not be so unstable
and memories of you dancing up on Lipsky's table
It's how 3 channels of TV was my babysitter
and the first time she called me to tell me he hit her
It's getting my shit stolen from Nazareth Police
and not being able to drive through philly in peace
It's the hospital, you brought me super nintendo
but i still had to watch fireworks out of the window
It's eating lunch by myself for a year and a half
my only friends were my headphones, my ears, and the grass
It's M-80s in mailboxes, watching them blow up
It's holding your hair everytime you threw up
It's Empathy, Sympathy, and breakfast at Tiffany's
It's the way my jaw dropped the first time you went down on me
Fuck, It's the first time I saw you that day
and then a year later youre spitting sprite in my face
Its Jamie's phase of calling everyone blokes, psh.
It's your paintings, your letters, your hugs, and your jokes
"You don't get them?" I live for them. Love Them? I need them.
It's your mom smacking me and calling me (of all things) a cretin? ha.
It's sex with you just blocks away from pier 39
It's watching the breakfast club a thousand times
It's my little LA vacation, too much masturbation
and trying to keep you away from the drug scene at Nathan's
Being hesitant of showing you all of my creations
and my inability to hold a relation
They either cheat or get up and leave when they're bored
Or I make up an excuse to not talk to them anymore
I'm afraid they might realize that I'm not what I seem
what i lack in esteem I make up with drugs and moans and screams
It's compassion, yeah, but I don't fake it with you
It's every time you get strep throat I buy you a book thats new
It's my dreams about demons, and your screams about semen
It's when we both left for college, and damn I was fiendin.
It's the night up at Kostenbader's when we had the bonfire
I had no idea SHE would be there, but you still call me a liar
It's pizza night instead of your dad's OK cooking
and lip-synching Nas raps when nobody's looking
It's holding your hand on the streets of insanity
and Carly's persuasion, alcohol, and vanity
It's his 'n hers corndogs at the Phillies game
I stayed in Nazareth for 3 summers before you finally came
It's a reunion with way too many emotions
and seeing you in your bikini for the first time at the ocean
and buying fish hooks from that guy with no thumbs
and getting lectured for smoking until I cough up my lungs
It's you actually trying to hug me to DEATH
and hearing you say "Hella Duuuuude" "Sike" and "Thats Fresh"
It's winning cutest couple, at the tressel blowing bubbles
and every time I'd go out you'd yell "KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE"
It's you getting kind of upset when I call you crazy.
but then you go and steal a book of names for babies. (we were 17)
It's melodramatics, RYAN HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT !?!?
It's me getting in fights and you rubbing my back
It's me going behind your back with the drugs, and Im sorry
It me spraypainting your name in a heart while we swam in the quarry
It's the gay poses you do with your friends in portraits
and you winning at Mortal Kombat only because I forfeit
It's how I say something is "sooooo fucking you"
and its a good thing baby, I SWEAR (honest, I do)
It's when we laughed til we cried cuz Chris won Porn King.
It's ok if you stopped reading by now I know that its boring.
I understand you, just like you understand me.
except for that time I smoked peyote and i talked in 3-D
It's the visible man, it's the tell tale heart
It's the park and the dark and "ice box" and card shark
It was being scared of gun fights when i was just a kid
and talking to Lyle about fucked up shit I did
Its pouring my heart out through the tip of a pencil
and getting you only on weekends like a rental
It's what I said to you once, I KNEW i shouldn't have said it.
and of course it's red bridge, but I still don't regret it
It's my ego being crushed, it's your cheeks when you blush
and me getting this all out, I'm really trying to rush
It's the fact that I'm stronger when you're close to me
we conquered schmauder's and now the world, hopefully.
It's the smell of your dryer sheets that comforts my nerves
and when you cried and I laughed when that nigger got stomped to the curb.
It's the fact that I knew my dad wouldn't write.
and the fact that hes dead but I still sleep at night.
When you came to Penn State, I wanted so badly
to grab you and hold you and fall in love with you madly
Instead it's anxiety mixed with sobriety
Insecure that you'll leave without saying bye to me
Insecure thoughts that you'll leave me alone
Insecure thoughts you won't answer the phone
It's dumb bitches stalking me, Its my dreams mocking me
It's being drunk at Spuce's and you still jump on top of me
It's knowing but not telling you how badly I've missed you
and waiting for the next chance that i get to kiss you
So what it is it? that makes me do what i do?
I guess to sum it up, Des, its you.
But there's one part of this poem that isn't so sweet.
There's a reason that Pete rhymes with defeat.
I lxve you.