counter clockwise.

drinking double brewed coffee on the rocks at 2:39 in the morning : sometimes my insomnia is self induced.
regardless its no use; i've grown custom to watching the sun come up.
...

today was gentle. the soft rain drops landing on my head. the kind you find youre almost able to dodge. getting caught in the crisp cool air, the breeze ruffeling my hair. the half moon was on my back, while i drove home.
i almost feel as if i can fein being content.


so tonight ill just settle down.
decompress. try not to stress as I lay down in bed. not a worry or care.
in my sea of blankets, I will drown.

..
how is it: that sometimes it feels like we take the backseat to our own lives.


who the hell is driving? and she's already called shot gun. plus all your baggage is taking up your entire backseat, sooo
where does that leave room for me?


..
don't forget to check the rearview mirror
objects are closer than they appear.

it isn't possible that all of this is a huge continuation of everything I've grown to miss...

how many fathoms deep did you repress it?
I don't think I have enough oxygen in my tank

 to dive into your depths,

plus the pressure alone may crush me;

subjected to a watery grave.

but say i do manage to travel down deep,
find the place were you decided to drown all the old memories
of you and me
how could i survive? the waters dark and murky.
i think im staring eye-to-eye, with a giant sea creature. the unknown.
your contradictions are suffocating me, like its tenticles wrapped around tight
breaking my ribs, making it so that there really was never a true fight. its hard to breathe. im struggling to see. impending darkness surrounds. deafening slience all around.
am i swimming towards the surface or the ground? no sense of direction; up or down.

...

&im so fucking jealous. and really... i'm trying to repress it. but the feeling keeps bubbling to the surface. trying to block it out- has no purpose.
its not like i want exactly what shes got...

i just wonder what exactly it is that im not

why cant that be me? effortlessly happy.

along with the cold, and the fact that im getting old,

 ive also grown custom, to the wind blowing people in and out of my life.

try as i might, to hold on

its obvious you're all moving on - to bigger and better things.

 

dont forget to write. and let me know: how truely fabulous is your new life?

are you happy enough to make her your wife?

dont forget to send me an invite to the reception,

because i wouldnt trust me at the wedding

what if i made a scene? when the pastor asked to "hold your peace" i dont think i could keep it in

these words have been swallowed too many times before.

like bile, itll come gushing from my throat.

...&i couldnt help it, if i got it everywhere. espically on her pure white dress.

itd be a mess. catastrophe.

 

...

 

why is it,

that the ones who hear me, misunderstand me.
and the ones who bother to listen, never hear correctly?

 

am i not conveying myself clearly?

might as well choke back my words, wash it down with these whiskey and cokes

 

 

 

i think im going to move to the west coast. leave all my troubles behind with my remorse.
find a life thats worthy to toast.

to the future and the unknown that it holds.

(i dont want to be anywhere that reminds me of your cold.)

...

 

what the fuck is wrong with my head? i cant even finish my sentences....