I would die for The Rose Vest

my picket fence

the song stuck in my head

the last good thing about this part of town

my versailles at night

things you are:

just a line in a song

a cherry blossom

a brick tied to me that’s dragging me down

a canary

second hand smoke

crashing

bullets; dying your hair black in your friends bathroom, jeans that are too big for you, bruised knuckles, midnight drives to the convenience store, sweating a lot, playing guitar really angrily in your basement, shoplifting beer and chugging it in the parking lot of the store, skipping school 

revenge; cutting up your skinny jeans, listening to music really loud, making out with our friends as a dare, wearing all black even in the summer, chipped nail polish, doing photoshoots in graveyards on shitty cameras, speeding on the highway, getting into fights at school

black parade; sobbing over your ex, fantasizing about death, going to raves, stealing your mom’s eyeliner, getting wasted, going out on halloween even though you’re too old, falling in love with your best friend, having a strange obsession with vampires, forming a shitty band, breaking the law, sewing patches onto your jackets, trying to bleach your hair

There’s a live version of this ain’t a scene, it’s an arms race where it starts with Patrick singing I write sins not tragedies and then saying “but this ain’t that song, and this ain’t that band, and this ain’t a scene, it’s a god damn arms race” and suddenly life is worth living