(no subject)
I hate every thing that flies
But I don't hate you.
Dont ever think I do.
I keep it short, you keep it in paragraphs.
I keep you in my bed, cause I want to keep you in my life.
You haven't ruined anything but yourself.
I guess I'm the one to blame.
I guess, I guess things have changed.
i still fall short on time. i can't begin to explain my thought process. this is an ode to you, to us, to time. i would go months on end with you and only you. now, i don't remember much of these months but i have the Polaroids to know they happened. i was your bandit and you, you were just my dad. the only thing my tiny still learning brain knew. you carried me in your knapsack kind of backpack and i do remember that. i remember it. you are the one i get my kind spirit from. i know it rarely comes out but i have one. and its because of you. its because of my mother that i rarely show it. you are the only hero in my eyes. and the only way i know how to cry. i think you love me the most. i think you love me the most because of what i represent. i was your first born, your baby girl. not just that though, i wasnt a product of a broken home. i was the start of a new life. we didnt have a family that just got split up after i had grown up. from day one, march fourth 1989 it was every man for himself. you made sure that i was your best friend. i think youre the reason i am who i am, why i am so well liked. i get the humble part from mom. i am perfect in every way, because of you. in all my insecurities and flaws, i am perfect because of you. because youre perfect. if i could pick anyone, it would be you. i had a really long talk with mom today about how i feel like we dont even know each other anymore. how i don't know. i realized most of our relationship in the last two years is because of someone else holding our ties of communication together. someone else who i know is secretly hoping for my demise in the city. but now that that tie is slightly breaking. i feel like i don't have you. you have always told me to pick my battles, and that my pride will always be something i have to fight with. which bushes to piss on and which to leave alone. well god damn it i am pissing on this bush, marking. its mine. i do not care about the consequences, this is the battle of choice and my weapon is something i know, only i have. i win, i always win.
But I don't hate you.
Dont ever think I do.
I keep it short, you keep it in paragraphs.
I keep you in my bed, cause I want to keep you in my life.
You haven't ruined anything but yourself.
I guess I'm the one to blame.
I guess, I guess things have changed.
i still fall short on time. i can't begin to explain my thought process. this is an ode to you, to us, to time. i would go months on end with you and only you. now, i don't remember much of these months but i have the Polaroids to know they happened. i was your bandit and you, you were just my dad. the only thing my tiny still learning brain knew. you carried me in your knapsack kind of backpack and i do remember that. i remember it. you are the one i get my kind spirit from. i know it rarely comes out but i have one. and its because of you. its because of my mother that i rarely show it. you are the only hero in my eyes. and the only way i know how to cry. i think you love me the most. i think you love me the most because of what i represent. i was your first born, your baby girl. not just that though, i wasnt a product of a broken home. i was the start of a new life. we didnt have a family that just got split up after i had grown up. from day one, march fourth 1989 it was every man for himself. you made sure that i was your best friend. i think youre the reason i am who i am, why i am so well liked. i get the humble part from mom. i am perfect in every way, because of you. in all my insecurities and flaws, i am perfect because of you. because youre perfect. if i could pick anyone, it would be you. i had a really long talk with mom today about how i feel like we dont even know each other anymore. how i don't know. i realized most of our relationship in the last two years is because of someone else holding our ties of communication together. someone else who i know is secretly hoping for my demise in the city. but now that that tie is slightly breaking. i feel like i don't have you. you have always told me to pick my battles, and that my pride will always be something i have to fight with. which bushes to piss on and which to leave alone. well god damn it i am pissing on this bush, marking. its mine. i do not care about the consequences, this is the battle of choice and my weapon is something i know, only i have. i win, i always win.