I am a mess, and that is the understatement of the

we need to stop glorifying the worst parts of ourselves you are the worst part of me

Press your fist in mine like it belongs. Words are just words and these ones were never mine. I preach about life and keep my secrets locked away in my head. We're all just dying (to live). (Maybe we're living to die). You are black hole smiles that suck the thoughts right out before I get a chance to think them. I don't know what I am.

She says she's happy the same way she says she wants to fly. Skinned knees and broken promises, and maybe she's already flying. Stop trying so hard. Walking on air, but you're falling instead. I promise I'll never leave you. I promise I'm lying. The half-truth never looked so pretty coming from your parted lips. Hips move to the beat. Hearts don't. They sink, sink, sink in our chests, pumping chemicals that make us sick. Envy the way the bass keeps running. The glitter on your eyelashes shines brighter than the stars and for a second I can see god. Heaven is too far.  I promise I'll never hurt you. At least not on purpose. Maybe if we clench our fingers round hands and hearts together, tighter, than we'll stop spinning so hard. Maybe then the world will stop rocketing by. But it probably won't. In the sodium glow, your smile is like broken glass and everywhere I turn I'm getting cut. Everywhere I run I'm bleeding out. I promise, tonight, that we'll never die. All this time, we've just been stretching our wings, and now, joints creaking, eyes leaking, we'll put them to the test.  If you jump, I promise I'll jump too. If you don't, I promise I still will.

i am quite sure i no longer belong. would you still love me if i didnt love you? i think about you every time i write. i think about you.

spend time with me  i want to memorize the way you breathe  somewhere there is someone who  thinks just like you  somewhere there is someone who  doesnt care about you at all  usually they are right next to us open your door and let me in already

Like I was saying, this feels like a suicide note, and I've already promised it isn't, but I just want you, whoever 'you' are, the one I'm always addressing, to know that I mean it, it's just funny how these things happen. One day you're having the time of your life, and then next you want to down a bottle of Prozac. I am a mess, and that is the understatement of the year.