(no subject)
Miller Genuine Draft. 10:10 pm. Isis - Oceanic. 12 people. Marlboro Red's. Air Force One's. A red Jim Bean Hat. A black Synergy shirt. Very worn out Gap Jeans from Christmas. A few piercings. Two sentimental tattoo's. Three braclets. Chipped nail polish. Synical, bitter smiling. I am here. 10:13. I'm not laughing anymore. It's noticeable that anger is relatively comforting to me. All day long I have felt difficult. My colors have been mixed, and it's a really unsettling feeling. Part of me is so angry and full of rage. The other part is sad, restless, and I feel so betrayed. Leading on. What is that? ....
I need something. I need you. I need to fucking be free. I miss you, still.
What do I do? When all I can imagine is you kissing her, and feeling everything for her that I FEEL for you. I wish I wasn't alive.
I need something. I need you. I need to fucking be free. I miss you, still.
What do I do? When all I can imagine is you kissing her, and feeling everything for her that I FEEL for you. I wish I wasn't alive.