| | I guess this is the part where I say, "Here we go again." I cannot keep all the bullshit to myself all the time. It is not healthy.
I stood still until I felt the shakes of two bodies that were parting ways. I didn’t want to be the one to say, "I know this hurts but it’s time to break... in two pieces," the fault line is not secure. Now a boat or bridge is needed to get back to him. I make mountains out of my worries; and I plant pain instead of sturdy trees. I have got to wash these old sheets, so I can fall asleep. There are times in which I reach for the phone to tell you that there might still be some hope. Holding on to the slack of metaphorical rope, but that’s the whiskey talking though. I hope that you can find some peace in life. Can you survive without me? ‘Cause I thought I’d be fine. Plus the only way I would be able say anything, would be if I was slurring every single line.
This isn’t fair, nobody taught me how to let go. "Just be here now and you’ll be set free from sorrow," that is what I want to hear and at this time. If I can’t see clearly, then how will I know? What the FUCK is point? What is the FUCKING meaning?
Now I’m struggling, I blackout so I can’t dream, but I still see you sneaking through my weary head. I suffer from a drought of medicine to dull self-doubt. I just want to drown you out with southern poison. If I had a drink for every God dammed time I think about your pale skin. Then at least I could sleep. If I had a shot for every God damned time I thought about your face and what I've lost. At least I’d get some sleep.
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| | Posted 4/14/2009 2:01 AM - 10 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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