Chewing On Glass Presents… Tripping On A Hole In A Paper Heart…

In a classroom full of Macs the information they must process, but they are here at this shit school. Which means they go to waste. Been in this class for over a week and we have yet to even turn one on. I’m in a classroom full of people I hate. Locked in a room with no key with people like me. Each and every one of them thinks they are better than me. Better than everyone else. The room feels claustrophobic and small. The room feels like hell. There are only twelve of us occupying the space, but it might as well be a thousand. The drugs I took today are not making this feeling go away. If anything they may have been bad, tainted. The teacher speaks in a way that is hard to understand. It is time to strap in.

It feels as if she is only talking to me, and I have to keep reminding myself that she isn’t. The students seem faceless. They have the blankest of stares that I can’t understand. I can’t see their eyes or their mouths. I begin to sweat and I have to take my sweatshirt off. It isn’t enough to escape the feeling that the room is on fire. I want to strip all of my clothes off as if this is normal. But I’m not high enough yet to just do it. The teacher keeps talking and the more I stare the more I notice that something seems to be leaking from her eyes. She is smiling and laughing as more blood pours from her eyes. The room erupts with the sound of laughter as the others join in. Their laughs float in the air as if they are real objects. I fight the urge to reach out to one. Take it into myself so I could join in. I’m getting even more nervous by the moment. My sweat has soaked through my shirt and I realize I am trapped in a nightmare the drugs are creating.

I start to see smoke come from behind the teacher. This must be where the feeling of being trapped in a fire is coming from. I fight the urge to shout anything out. Foot tapping to the restrained words inside my head. Faster and faster my foot taps to a broken beat. The smoke gets thicker and I find it hard to breathe. The orange glow of fire starts to fill the back of the room. I feel the heat of the fire on my face. Maybe this is real, but why aren’t the other students shouting and screaming? Why are they just sitting there laughing as if everything is okay? I fake a smile as I look at their blank faces. My face feels stretched against the fire. Locked in place with a crooked smile. I want to leave but I am afraid. Afraid of what I might find outside of this room. The teacher rises from her chair at the head of the class. A monstrous force with pitchfork in hand. She waves it around her pointing it at each and every one of us. Impaled fetus rest on each fork. Cooked and barely distinguishable from burnt up sausages. Only the little charred hands pointing back at me. She screams with a horrible sound that has no equal. She screams in a language I can’t understand. A lost language that hasn’t been spoken since the dawn of time. She paces the front of the room. Only stopping to pound her pitchfork and let out another scream. It’s not real. It’s not real. The other students respond back with their own horrible screams. It’s not real. I just need to ride this out. I close my eyes and place my head on my desk.

The heat around me rises to an unbearable degree as the pounding of her pitchfork gets closer and closer until I can feel her right above me. I scream as her burning hand touches my shoulders. Her face has transformed into a face of scales and blood. She whispers to me as she looks into my eyes. I watch as the students are engulfed in flames. They make no noise as they burn. Through the fire I can now see all of their eyes. All of their eyes staring back at me. The teachers places her face directly in front of me. All I can see is her. Her scales breaking off into little flakes as she moves her mouth. “I can’t,” is all I can manage to say. I fight the urge to vomit and scream at the same time. I grab my backpack and try to ignore the fact that it feels like something is moving inside. Running through the flames I know this isn’t real, but I can’t stay here any longer. I reach for the red hot handle attached to the black door. The handle feels cold as I push down on it and enter the hallway on the other side.

The black door slams, but it sounds as though it is coming from far away. I struggle through the hallway. Making my way towards the stairs. Each foot step feels like a fight. Feels as though the bottoms of my shoes have melted to the floor. Should I take them off? Even in a nightmare state that seems like a bad idea. It takes me a moment before I notice the others. I am not alone as I make my way through the building. More faceless students surround me. Each one with a knife in their hands. I try to not draw any attention to myself. Each step, each leg pulled with all the effort I have left. I need to get to my car. It goes on like this for what feels like an eternity. It goes on so long I forget what it is that I am doing and fall just before the stairs. I manage to catch myself. The hallway grows silent. The students are no longer going about their business. Picking myself up off the floor I look around. The faceless students stare back at me. Each one holding their long butcher knife beside them. The blades shine as they turn them from side to side in an offbeat synchronized rhythm. The light in the hallway reflecting off each and every one of them. I feel an intense amount of dread fill my stomach. I don’t wait for them to do anything as I run down the stairs in horror.

Step by step in a rapid fashion. Until I miss the last step. Slamming face first onto the floor. I hear a rush of footsteps approach me. One of the faceless students tries to help me up. Their knife rested next to me on the floor. It speaks to me in a way that I don’t understand. I kick away from the face my body filled with pain and shock. I crawl my way to the nearest door and manage to get myself up on my feet. One of my feet hurts but I can’t tell which one. My fears of going outside were justified. The sky is no longer sunny or blue. The sky has turned a shade of red and the clouds have become a black so dark that it couldn’t possibly be real. Little red flakes fall from the black clouds. They float down around me in a slow motion usually reserved for the movies. The flakes make their way to the ground and they slowly melt as each one makes it to the ground. Forming puddles of blood that litter the pavement. Bigger and bigger the puddles grow with every passing moment. It’s not real. It’s not real. I sprint towards the parking lot. Pain shooting up one of my legs.

The cars are misshapen and I can’t tell which one is mine. I take out my keys and press the panic button. My car begins to honk somewhere in the distance. The lights of the car flash on and off in shades of blue, red, green, and purple in no real order. They flash in a pattern that says here I am. I run to the car. Unlocking it with a push of a button and turn the panic mode off. I open the back passenger door and crawl inside. Crawl inside my new womb. The seats feel slimy and warm. The seats feel like home. A warm womb with windows? This isn’t real. This isn’t real. What is anymore? I ask myself as the seats pulsate as if they are real.  I bury my head into the back seat and close my eyes against the warm. Feels as though my head is surrounded by water. Through it all I hear it. The sound of music, the sound of talking, the sounds of a distant memories I have long forgotten. The sounds of it all are taking over little by little by some outside noise.  I hear scratching on the sides of my car. Too afraid to open my eyes I just scream into the seat. Scream until I finally pass out to the sounds of the students dragging their knives across the sides of the car. Waiting tear me away from my new home. Hands and knives pressed against the sides of my womb.

Wait… What the fuck?… Yeah I don’t know either… I spent a lot of time messing with this one… the basic idea was always there from the beginning… as most ideas are… first draft was weird and crazy… apparently I have always been weird and a little bit off… who knew?… but I thought lets turn this shit up to eleven… fun fact… I had to be removed by C section… had to be torn from my first home as well… if I hadn’t there was a good chance I would have died… cord was tied around my throat… my life line was not ready to let go?… I was also super late… two weeks… my mom thought I was never going to come out… almost didn’t as it turns out… spoiler alerts I made it…

I often wonder though… as the cord was tied around my neck… and the doctors told my mother to push… that in those moments… something happened to me… turned on a switch… told me to live… not to given into everything that was happening to me… of course these are adult thoughts… these are thoughts I have when all hell feels as though it surrounds me… I tried to inject that idea into this character… give him a piece of me… this isn’t real… this isn’t real… which this story isn’t… I’ve never done acid or any psychedelic drugs… for every reason presented above in the story…

If I can imagine all of that sober… I am afraid of what I would see high… which is where this story started… I like to explore the idea of what I might find over… actually going to find it… grass is greener where the dogs are shitting and all… I have been lucky… or too uncool… to have never been around drugs… I knew people who do them… know people who do a lot of them… just not around me… and all those that I know who do a lot of them… live a life I would never want to live… it looks brutal… miserable… but that is the life that they choose… that sounds like I am an asshole… and that could be a whole other post… condensed version of what I believe about life… is that we make our own choices…

I write a lot about drugs… A Lie for example… other stories found on this website… I try at all times to not make them sound fun… they very well could be… but I really doubt it long term… I have tried a few… the ones that I have tried I have liked… one for a short term (marijuana)… the other… well if you have been paying attention to the website for the last year… long term in a bad way (alcohol)… nothing too crazy… but in the very limited scope of what I have experienced… being sober has always been better… like everything in life… never at the time… only in hind sight…

So back to the question or thought I presented… why do you write a lot about drugs?… Honestly because they’re something physical… something tangible… something most of us can understand… because we all know someone or know someone who knows someone that does drugs or knew… some of us have done them ourselves… and also because you can’t inject… or snort… or smoke sadness… but as it turns out you can… and in the case of A Lie… that is where I went with that… same as I went here… this story isn’t real… I didn’t trip on acid and fall asleep in my car… I had a panic attack and feel asleep in my car instead… that is where fiction and truth collide… that is where I like to stand… that is where I like to be when I write… could I have written the same story for the same effect without drugs?… yep… but it would have been boring… been like digging at an old wound… where is the fun in that?… find out next week… complete with pictures as we dig deeper into my chest… : )

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Broken Thoughts… Looking For Something New…

Slowly killing myself
Living life, not fast enough
Dying life, not slow enough
Speed it up
Let it go
Breathe a little
Keep fucking running
Not enough
Add it up
Subtract the dream
Slowly killing myself
Living life, not slow enough
Dying life, not fast enough
Drag it in
Hold on tight
Exhale a little
Keep fucking pulling
Not enough effort
Add it up
Subtract the want
Nothing equals what you give
Living on fumes
Being dragged by the chain
Waiting around bored
Makes no sense
Yet here we are

I can’t separate the need from the pain…

How many times are you going to break my heart?
How many times will I let you?
Ripping the heart from my chest
What a useless vessel for love
How much can one take?
Enough to kill for
At what point am I?
What a useless question for love
Not even close enough
How many times are you going to take everything?
How many times must I watch it all walk away?
Stripping the soul from my body
What a useless vessel for life
How much can one take?
Enough to die for
At what point am I?
What a useless question for something
So meaningless as this

Sometimes it is easier to say the words out loud than to believe them…

Are you even trying?
Do you try to breathe?
No, why would I? You?
Only when I’m drowning

Trying to make it through today…

Two weeks from thirty two
Growing old
The mirror’s reflection doesn’t look the same
The mind feels as it always does
Growing old
Thinking about all the things
Thinking how none of this means a thing
Growing old
Killing myself is getting old

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter...

Chewing On Glass Presents: Bobby…

The man shakes as he speaks his words more transparent than his presence. His needs outweigh his wants by now, but it is all trivial in the end. We wanders from table to table on the outdoor patio. He wants someone to listen to him. “God is good,” I can hear him say from the next table over. He has a speech rambling in his head only the audience isn’t willing to listen. He is off to another table talking to himself as he goes along. Explaining his speech on deaf ears and intoxicated minds. Taking the appropriate amount of time with each thought, each word as though anything he has to say is important. A girl at the next table goes down the rabbit hole with him, but she soon comes up for air and walks away. So he moves on. He is a disciple of God he proclaims as he reaches my table. I inherit my new role in all of this with grace. Something is off about him and I don’t think it is the alcohol. Jesus he repeats. He is the disciple of Jesus not God. Though Jesus is God he explains. He seems confused as to what even he is saying as he says it, but I listen all the same. Who am I to turn away a fellow story teller? He engages with everyone at my table. More so than I have for the past few minutes. He takes a seat in the empty chair at our table. Uninvited but not pushed away. He found what he was looking for in us. An audience who can’t look away. He sets the scene, lays out the characters, and tells us his tale. A tale of heart break, a tale of pain. It is a story that is easy to judge after the fact, but you know that during it all there was, was pain. Love is fickle in that way. Intense, everlasting, all that there is, and after a time it is nothing at all. A mistake, a bad decision, a waste of time, but for some that time never ends even after the fact. Insert Bobby, insert God, and insert the reason he sits before us today. Drinking is not new to him. Drinking and science is what lead him here today, but like most people around these parts God showed him the way. A woman left, the woman left him he stresses with every little detail. He was sad so he drank. Tried to drink the pain away. He was successful for a moment in time. Only he tried to do something else that night, drive home. Illegal enough of an activity to call his actions stupid, irresponsible, dangerous, and yet we haven’t even gotten to all the details. Drinking plus heartbreak plus speed can only equal one thing to most of us. Lucky to make it out of the wreck alive if not destroyed. Lucky that no one else was hurt or anywhere near his selfish act. Bobby found something he didn’t know he was missing until then. Bobby found God or so his story goes. As he thanked him with a prayer between sips of beer. Didn’t thank science or the doctors. He didn’t thank the people around him that took care of him while he recovered from the horrible accident that left him with irreversible brain damage. No he thanked God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. He finishes his beer and gets up from the chair. Asks if we found Jesus? Before wandering off once again. In search of a new audience to hear the same speech repeating in his head.

This one is pretty dark… very different… and Bobby very much exists… I meet him for a brief moment… almost seven years ago… while going through my notes I found my notes on the evening… my friend at the table told me after he left… that this would be a good story… so I wrote some notes down… left it at that for almost a decade… one because I buried the notes… and two because I didn’t know how to approach the story…

It isn’t my style… especially back then… back then I had no style… but I knew that, that wasn’t the style I was going for… recently I had a change of heart… I found the notes and I set out to finish it… it isn’t long and it isn’t epic… but it is real… I don’t know if Bobby still walks the earth telling his tale… I hope so… but just in case… here it is…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter...

Broken Thoughts… Turning My Head To The Side…

Breaking down the barrier
Between then and now
Forever lost in your thoughts
How it is, how it should be
Like suffering where you sit
Here we are trapped in all this shit
An endless cycle
Without a defined beginning
Like suffering as you breathe
Struggling through every breath
Here I am waiting on your sin

Broken wings too bent to fly…

Your words hurt me
I won’t admit this truth
Face to face
The truth burns deep inside my head
An insect among the dead
Feared and never respected
Bring the truth of the world to light
Eating all that you dispose
In the darkness I grow

Scattered across the floor of my mind…

Apocalypse Dawn
Burning scars across the face of it all
The embers burn into a blaze of thought
Screaming words to prove I’m sane
The poison long injected into the vain
Been longing to die with them all along
Just didn’t know it had to be so soon
As quickly as now
Trading everything to not fit in
The transactions leaving tracks across the skin
Selling parts of me to prove I’m not them
Antisocial and got it wrong
Suffering alone for no reason at all
Just didn’t know that it had to make no sense
Not even now
A confusing time to figure it all out
At the apocalypse dawn

Wait that last one isn’t a Broken Thought… it is a poem… yeah well shit changes… Originally only had the title… Apocalypse Dawn… which is why I wrote every line to “As quickly as now“… in the first place… should have been the end of the thought… as it was when I wrote it months ago… but on second pass today… I thought that it was way to violent for no reason at all…

I’m not one to shy away from violence… being vulgar… but even I have a change of heart… when there is no reason for it… So I started fucking around with it and came up with the rest… turned it from a violent world ending thought… to being about growing old… retrospective today?… maybe…

While messing around I wrote three other lines that I took out… they were good… but I only wanted the idea of what they said rather than the actual words themselves…

A fashion statement with no reason
Just go back to the beginning
To see where this began

Maybe I will use them later for something else… or they will get buried in my notes… but without context they are very vague… the first line here is about trends and all the things we do to be “different”… something I am very guilty of… not a bad thing… but as we grow older… as we out grow the trend of the time… popular or not… we may still keep some of things we did as children… but mostly we shed all that we can to fit in to society in the end… All the kids are like fuck that this is me for life… and all of us “old people” are having flashbacks earlier times…

Need examples?… why the fuck not… my thoughts are on display anyway… Growing up I was Punk as fuck… you know like everyone else… I was rebellious to a point… I had crazy hair… basically my bangs grown all the way to the center of my chest and the rest of my head shaved… dyed black of course… finger nails painted… very Misfits… blended with what I also loved at the time… pop punk… lip ring… long shorts… skater shoes… I also had to have black bracelets… the rubbery jelly kind… because Joey Jordison from Slipknot had them… so I had to have them too… I was a mix of fashions… because I was so “different” then everyone else…

I carried these rebellious choices for a long ass time… It was me and was always going to be me… let me tell you kids don’t even know… hit that first job… lost half of myself in an instant… lip ring had to come out (I kept this for awhile… had to take it out when I got to work… but when all you do is work… it became too much of a pain in the ass to take out every day)… nails must be clean… and absolutely no bracelets… I fought some of these rules… I had changed my hair by then… you know because Davey Havok from AFI had a full head of long black hair… so I needed that too… but for the most part it was fit in or starve…

Sell out?… maybe… but somethings aren’t worth fighting for… growing older you learn the difference… for me fashion didn’t define me for me… my thoughts… my words… the music I like… those define me… and can’t be taken away… Lost track of where I was going with this… but shit changes whether you want it to… think it won’t… or believe in your heart of hearts that it can’t?.. unless you are rich… then you can shit from the roof tops with no regrets… fitting in has such a dirty taste…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Almost forgot… a thought… Apocalypse Dawn… Would make such an awesome band name… yeah sometimes the thoughts are as simple as that… and everything else just leaks out…

Broken Thoughts… Don’t Wanna Mess With Me…

The fog is thick against my calloused skin
An armor I’m supposed to wear with pride
Ashamed to admit it doesn’t make me
Feel any better about this life
Experiences are all we are made of
Cold and calculated
Broken hearted
Smile the pain away one more time
As this life ticks away
Every second one more reason
Every minute just how it is
A burn victim with no symptoms
The skin fits tight against my frame
Slowly living myself away
Invisible scars are all I have
To keep me warm at night
Against the fog, against the pain
We are all here to suffer
Think I’ve earned my place by now

The whole thing has left me rather exhausted…

Easier to pick the body apart as it rots
As she
As she feeds piece by piece
Picking apart all the things I thought
As she
As she tears me apart
Still have crimes to answer for
Just because I don’t say them
Doesn’t mean they don’t consume me
A constant nightmare played out in my head
Easier to swallow it whole before it rots
As she
As she constricts my soul
Choking me with all my thoughts
As she
As she tears me apart

I have felt worse things…

Chasing a new kind of enemy
A darkness that surrounds me
Storm clouds rolling in
The thunder shakes the ground
Lightning trying to strike me down
A hate that comes from within
Chasing storms as they roll in
A new kind of enemy
Hailing down upon me
Tornado approaches
Standing my ground
No more running from my creation
Suffering through a new kind of destruction
Waiting out the storm that is myself

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Chewing On Glass Presents: Chasing Darkness…

Things aren’t quite the way they used to be. Things change fact of life and death. Even if we can change those facts like I have. Things still very much change. I no longer know who I am or what I have become. I’m not what most people would consider normal. Well to be honest most would consider me to be eccentric. They always have from every moment that I can remember. Strange not normal. Broken and not equal. Different in every sense of the word. They were right of course, but I guess chasing endless winter is not most people’s idea of a good time. Not most people’s idea of where I should be or what I should be doing. But I like the isolation, the cold, the loneliness of it all. It helps me think and that is all they really want from me in the end. They want me to think for them. To create for them. Being out here in the nothing makes me feel more alive than a room full of people sucking up to my money. Yes, I am rich. Richer than most nations to be exact. To be fair though that isn’t saying much considering most nations didn’t go with technology. The choice was too easy to follow me, to invest in my ideas. Man is flawed in that way. Self-doubt, too easy can’t be the right way. Must resist and so they did. Investing in war and death. I shouldn’t have to tell you how that turned out. But history, stories they are summaries of things we already know.

Turns out bombs don’t feed people or build homes or take care of you when you get old. No, bombs only have one purpose and they do that function very well. But robots? My robots? They can do so much more than kill. Most nations fallen to the way side, disappeared off the map of everything including people’s minds. The advancements were swift, they were quick. I discovered a loop hole that we had missed. Any easy option no one believed to exist. Greatly enhanced soldiers that feel no pain, targeting systems that can target any and everything you may desire, and a defense systems so advanced that it would make nuclear war less of a fear and more of an annoyance. Whole nations wiping themselves out before the missiles even left the ground. Only took a few of these “brave and fearless leader” to wipe themselves out before all nuclear missiles were deemed obsolete. In fact less bombs destroyed whole nations then had ever been tested in the history of any nuclear program. I didn’t just make the world better. I saved humanity and everything with it. These were only the beginnings of my ideas. Yes, my pockets were lined with dirty dollars of anyone who was willing to pay for protection. This is capitalism at its finest. This is everything that we once believed in. Things they change even if we don’t think that they can.

What is left of Christianity would blame faith in false idols and other dated terms for what was coming. Yes, I am that old. Faith can come to us at any moment, but it can not change in an instant. It is enduring like that unlike nations. The faithful fought the next wave of advancements. Pushed my patience beyond their limits. I grew bored with enhancing nations to the highest bidder. It was time to take my ideas to the people. Take it beyond the surface of what I knew and go deeper. Humans are a flawed design. Boasting about how we are the greatest at everything. Spreading lies beyond the fabric of what we know to be true, but I knew with my help. I could make all our lies, all our fables, all our faith in ourselves. I knew that I could make them true. My advancements in nano tech and hybrid parts brought the revolution to the people. Put everything in their hands to do with as they wished. So long as they paid. So long as they understood what it was they were getting into. They didn’t, but it didn’t matter. Humans adapt to ideas they don’t understand. It is a slow process, but they accept the way things are eventually or they die off. Evolution sits as a theory, but the problem is we understand it better than we think. We accept it as truth even as we question its very existence. Deep down we already knew. We have always known what is that we are, where we come from, and how it will all go. There may be no all-seeing god, but something moves us to follow blindly. I will give them that. No one, not even myself can be as arrogant to not believe in a purpose.

The fall was coming. Everything I had created was going to turn. Human history is riddle with stories similar to mine. Roman Empire, the Chinese Dynasties, early man, and the list could follow us all the way to today. Life doesn’t stop under the wheel of change. It grows stronger. Picking up speed until we no longer understand what it is that we have created. A bump in the road, a great fall, but this one was different. This one was not like the rest. Unlike the falls of the past, the missteps that lead to something else. This one changed the game. Changed the world and the human race. We moved past everything we thought we knew. We became something greater than ourselves. The ones that were left that is. The advancements I made in human tech changed the game. We became one with the robots. Equal to my creations. Working side by side until we cleaned up everything. We needed something more though. We always need something more. We looked to the skies once again. Except this time we knew that we were ready to face any and all challenges. No longer a dream, but the next step in our evolution. My evolution, my purpose in this world. For the first time in human history people are too busy thinking. Thinking of ways to make everything better rather than how to destroy. For the first time in human history everyone is thinking like me.

That is why I live here alone like this. That is why among other things I do what I do. I feel this need to distance myself from them. I feel this over encumbering need to be as far away from them as I can. The wind howls outside of my cabin. A few more days left of darkness and the chase will begin again. The world advancing by the minute and my wealth grows. The owner of this world, my empire, lives in near darkness studying the sky for the lost planet no one’s even hear of yet. Trying to make sense of my purpose in this world.

This fucking story… This story didn’t start out like this at all… the original draft was trash… an idea that I didn’t know was there until I looked a lot deeper… So I worked on it… worked with it… typed up the whole thing on my phone… had it all amazing… had it to a point that I thought was good… then technology and my stupidity fucked me… While trying to transfer the file from my phone to my computer… using all the great advancements that Google bestowed onto us… I lost the whole thing…

Back to step one… and I was fucking pissed… I’m still pissed and it has been over a week… still pissed and I have rewritten the whole thing for a second time… but it is over and done?… I just read it… why are you so pissed?… Who cares?… you are right but it doesn’t matter… I’m pissed because the story was vastly different… and how it was different I don’t know… but I know… I write by the seat of my pants… I write until it is done… I purge the thoughts and move on… so if it isn’t written down… saved somewhere… I have no idea what it was that I even said…

So… all that work… all that effort… gone in a flash… and like this character all I think about is progression… not going back… But I had to go back… I had to finish this story… redo this story… because I needed this story for two other stories in this cycle… woke up today… and got it done… It isn’t that bad actually… still pretty pissed that I had to do it again… but for all I know… it might have all been for the best… destruction and loss… may have all been for the best… or maybe it wasn’t… “Faith can come to us at any moment, but it can not change in an instant”

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter...

Broken Thoughts… Got Everything I Need Sitting on Broken Knees…

Nothing changes, never stays the same
The present is a waste
Looking to the future
Stuck in the past
Waiting for something new
The next thing that wants to kill me
A waiting game sitting on my hands
Hold me down by the throat if you must
Force feed me the pills to silence
Won’t make any difference to me
Because nothing changes, nothing ever stays the same

Because when you are gone I remember every word you said…

Reflecting on my insecurities
Possessive, needy
How is it that I make you feel
Obsessive, controlling
How does it make me feel
Dismissive, hating
How is it that I make you feel
Submissive, defying
How does it make me feel
An asshole in sheep’s clothing
Decisions that you’ve made
Won’t go away so, the feelings stay

Become something I’m not…

Drowning out the thoughts with repetitive words
Replacing dead memories with empty things
Has worked so far
Because if I don’t I fall apart
Looking at the cracks across the pavement
Trying to keep the tears in place, buried in my eyes
Drowning out everything with one more drink
Replacing dead thoughts with empty ideas
Has worked so far
Because if I don’t I fall apart
Searching for something more among the living
Pretending I’m not dead, buried in my eyes
Drowning out every depressive thought
Hasn’t worked so far
Staring at the glass as I pour one more

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter