the worst feeling in the world:
loving a band so much that it hurts... then realizing you don't love them as much as you once did.
like a piece of you that you held so close just all of a sudden broke and you can't put the puzzle back together.

i want to cry.

you know you're all i see. i don't get why you have to throw it in my face. it hurts enough knowing you're only straying further every time i see you.

anything for you, for feeling you... for living through you
and you still don't get it
even after your fix of light
it's not real... it won't be
no matter how many times you write over your dulling pencil scratches
the words still aren't yours
you can't own something you don't believe in
not with every fiber of your selfish being
why would i want to teach you?
to let you see what it's like deceiving mirrors and philosophies...
to let you feel my shaking hands climbing burdened mountains of false hope...
it's hard to let anything get through to you, but maybe this will.
maybe i will.
cut the deck, take some chances.
sooner or later you will wish and fall to pieces
because we are all pretending.

reality bites, doesn't it?

i don't like when you raise your voice. i don't like those moments when i realize i am wrong. i don't like looking in the mirror on thursdays because i feel more invisible than ever the day before i think i'll see you. i don't like being swayed one way or another. i don't like typing too fast and missing certain keys, always seeming to miss the same ones but never really noticing.
but... i like you. i like the way your dimples crinkle with happiness when you know you've had an epiphany. i like the way you share your secrets, whispering like the air around us is breaking. i like when you run your hands through your hair when you're angry with me and my horrible cooking. i like it when you trace around the syllables in my notebook, bending your fingers in and out of the consonants, scratching against the vowels. and it's because of you that i'm so insecure, yet so sure of myself.
i never know how i am when you ask me. it's always 'i don't know' with you. i can be happy or sad or serene or cozy before you're near me, but once you're in the same room... once you're there to ask how i'm doing, i completely forget the mood i had been in. and i just smile and say, "i'm not sure... how are you?" then you laugh and say, "you're never sure."
and that is one of the only things i can promise you you're right about. because other than that, i'm always changing. you know i can never make up my mind, and when i think i've made a decision... i really haven't.
so maybe you're the one that's going to change all that. maybe that's why it's different with you. maybe it's just infatuation. infatuation at it's finest, i suppose. but nonetheless, i think i am in love with you.