backed up
when people are open to change; and understanding...that's when they will believe.
what we're believing is truly up for grabs; and is determined by what we wish not to happen to us. are we fickle? maybe we are. i don't smoke cigarettes, though i'm leaning towards doing so. the problem with that is i don't want cancer to happen to me. see; belief and happening.
today i woke up in a manner that isn't fitting for anyone. It's those moments where you hate yourself so much that you consider turning off the shower; running a bath and then just letting yourself drowned. I'm not so sure if it's about depression or loneliness. It has more to do with the fact that everyone is disappointed in me again. i figure I'll stop drinking Pete. That I'd put down the bottle and pick up the pen that's been dying to write about my demise so that i can finally get over all this pain. Two years of this ongoing struggle to come to terms with what I've done and how i responded. I tried scrubbing everything off this morning during the shower, out of my hair and off of my hands, but the only thing i got was sore skin with a mountain fresh scent. It seems that whatever i want to believe will happen to me never will. But is that my choice? These 10mg capsules of expired Prozac plays a bigger role in my life then anyone I'll probably let write with me. They are my hearts best friend, as she now begins to realize its the only thing that settles her ribs. I can't understand why I'm phased by all of this and you're playing in our apartment, sleeping in our bed. My stomach screams at the thought of any other boy in our bed. Those Jude Laws are nothing but thieving rats; the ones you always seem to fall for and towards; and abroad i can't sing a thing to change your mind. I can't put on those turquoise boots i use for saving princes and dance to you anymore. Do you know how much i hurt? The blaring of gaga's honest eyes as she tells me again and again to suck it up and get on with mine; is all that deters me from that final white flag god knows I'm now holding in my hands. This morning she stopped her piano and spoke right out and said, "you have the whole world to conquer and the only person holding you back is Pete." I didn't say "i know," or let that settle in my mind, i promise! I can put the world on the back burner for your blue eyes any time I'd have the chance to. I believe that much in you even if what will happen to me is nothing that i dreamed. There are swans and there are owls; in the morning your stark white, during nights you're the owl. The bitter thirst of hunting rats takes over that bright heart i tell everyone about. You speak like a poet who's seen more then just me and the Alamo city and yet you've never left the state. These long nights will damper your eyes, as you drink all the poetry out of you and into a coffin. The question i have to ask you Pete is, "are you who you say that you are?" That innocence we once introduced to each other has shrank to the tiniest value; so when we do decide to redeem everything we once had, god will only offer us pennies. There will be no fame; no lights. We'll have only memories of what was supposed to happen. The men that will tuck us into bed won't be the kind and gentle; enlightening birds we pinky promised each other we'd be. They will be swine. I'm writing this to you because i can longer allow myself to consider back burners and owls. There's no room for Prozac in my heart or cancer in my lungs and when you're on my mind i tell myself to take it there. The once soulful poet i prided myself on is nothing more then a colorless peacock who's wandering so deep south he'll never find freedom. Time is this indecisive bitch that fast forwards through your smiles and displays your yells on slow motion. It's the only girl that won't fall for my charm. Since 2004 I've done nothing but wait and hope I'll be the shine in someone's eye but my own. Now I'm a ghost. I would like more than anything to come home to you right this second. To leave my boots and all the sequence you've never really liked and appear at your feet in all those old Atticus shirts i used to own. I'd pick you up at the barrel barn and you'd hand me a brand new bright eyes t shirt. You'd have the most disarming smile I'd ever see. I would be so nervous and my heart would just beat. We could drive all the way back to my fathers house and walk in the woods to our bench. That bench that held our first kiss; the place you proposed. That's where we'd go and sit. I'd promise and say, "I'll never have the thought of leaving your face. These people who walk around us won't have their say in our love; our life. Everyone has always had a say! From today it'll be just me and you. We'd be those happy people who can't stray away from each other; but we'd never match our clothes. I would wake up and count your toes and those freckles on your back. I'll brush the hair from your face and smell your cheeks. I'll clean the house because I'm the trophy wive; and you're the guy. We'd finally put up those antlers and go to the river when it's actually full. We could live in the Alamo with our two kids; Fendi and Uffie. We will be the happiest princes that ever lived. I promise I'm always going to be your kid; and you, my big." I'd want you to stitch me back up again Pete; but you wouldn't. It's nobody's fault that we've lost our crowns in this fickle world we'll never own. It's the drop of the dice that leads boys like us to wander away from their home; from love. Whether or not you'll be back to play with my hair isn't the question right now. It's if I'm going to grow. It's more about me trying to find my strings and be the person that i really wanted to be. I can't speak to you when you're hunting mice and singing for other eyes; as well as allow myself to drink and drug myself to speak. I will though document everything i see because I only speak truly to you. If i were to simply detach from my heart i wouldn't be honest. So here's to today; and then tomorrow. I loved you. I grew up.
what we're believing is truly up for grabs; and is determined by what we wish not to happen to us. are we fickle? maybe we are. i don't smoke cigarettes, though i'm leaning towards doing so. the problem with that is i don't want cancer to happen to me. see; belief and happening.
today i woke up in a manner that isn't fitting for anyone. It's those moments where you hate yourself so much that you consider turning off the shower; running a bath and then just letting yourself drowned. I'm not so sure if it's about depression or loneliness. It has more to do with the fact that everyone is disappointed in me again. i figure I'll stop drinking Pete. That I'd put down the bottle and pick up the pen that's been dying to write about my demise so that i can finally get over all this pain. Two years of this ongoing struggle to come to terms with what I've done and how i responded. I tried scrubbing everything off this morning during the shower, out of my hair and off of my hands, but the only thing i got was sore skin with a mountain fresh scent. It seems that whatever i want to believe will happen to me never will. But is that my choice? These 10mg capsules of expired Prozac plays a bigger role in my life then anyone I'll probably let write with me. They are my hearts best friend, as she now begins to realize its the only thing that settles her ribs. I can't understand why I'm phased by all of this and you're playing in our apartment, sleeping in our bed. My stomach screams at the thought of any other boy in our bed. Those Jude Laws are nothing but thieving rats; the ones you always seem to fall for and towards; and abroad i can't sing a thing to change your mind. I can't put on those turquoise boots i use for saving princes and dance to you anymore. Do you know how much i hurt? The blaring of gaga's honest eyes as she tells me again and again to suck it up and get on with mine; is all that deters me from that final white flag god knows I'm now holding in my hands. This morning she stopped her piano and spoke right out and said, "you have the whole world to conquer and the only person holding you back is Pete." I didn't say "i know," or let that settle in my mind, i promise! I can put the world on the back burner for your blue eyes any time I'd have the chance to. I believe that much in you even if what will happen to me is nothing that i dreamed. There are swans and there are owls; in the morning your stark white, during nights you're the owl. The bitter thirst of hunting rats takes over that bright heart i tell everyone about. You speak like a poet who's seen more then just me and the Alamo city and yet you've never left the state. These long nights will damper your eyes, as you drink all the poetry out of you and into a coffin. The question i have to ask you Pete is, "are you who you say that you are?" That innocence we once introduced to each other has shrank to the tiniest value; so when we do decide to redeem everything we once had, god will only offer us pennies. There will be no fame; no lights. We'll have only memories of what was supposed to happen. The men that will tuck us into bed won't be the kind and gentle; enlightening birds we pinky promised each other we'd be. They will be swine. I'm writing this to you because i can longer allow myself to consider back burners and owls. There's no room for Prozac in my heart or cancer in my lungs and when you're on my mind i tell myself to take it there. The once soulful poet i prided myself on is nothing more then a colorless peacock who's wandering so deep south he'll never find freedom. Time is this indecisive bitch that fast forwards through your smiles and displays your yells on slow motion. It's the only girl that won't fall for my charm. Since 2004 I've done nothing but wait and hope I'll be the shine in someone's eye but my own. Now I'm a ghost. I would like more than anything to come home to you right this second. To leave my boots and all the sequence you've never really liked and appear at your feet in all those old Atticus shirts i used to own. I'd pick you up at the barrel barn and you'd hand me a brand new bright eyes t shirt. You'd have the most disarming smile I'd ever see. I would be so nervous and my heart would just beat. We could drive all the way back to my fathers house and walk in the woods to our bench. That bench that held our first kiss; the place you proposed. That's where we'd go and sit. I'd promise and say, "I'll never have the thought of leaving your face. These people who walk around us won't have their say in our love; our life. Everyone has always had a say! From today it'll be just me and you. We'd be those happy people who can't stray away from each other; but we'd never match our clothes. I would wake up and count your toes and those freckles on your back. I'll brush the hair from your face and smell your cheeks. I'll clean the house because I'm the trophy wive; and you're the guy. We'd finally put up those antlers and go to the river when it's actually full. We could live in the Alamo with our two kids; Fendi and Uffie. We will be the happiest princes that ever lived. I promise I'm always going to be your kid; and you, my big." I'd want you to stitch me back up again Pete; but you wouldn't. It's nobody's fault that we've lost our crowns in this fickle world we'll never own. It's the drop of the dice that leads boys like us to wander away from their home; from love. Whether or not you'll be back to play with my hair isn't the question right now. It's if I'm going to grow. It's more about me trying to find my strings and be the person that i really wanted to be. I can't speak to you when you're hunting mice and singing for other eyes; as well as allow myself to drink and drug myself to speak. I will though document everything i see because I only speak truly to you. If i were to simply detach from my heart i wouldn't be honest. So here's to today; and then tomorrow. I loved you. I grew up.