is it bad that i still think about you?
i mean you left me 35 days ago.
you left me alone.
you were the person i talked to when i felt like this.
and you told me you’d never leave.
but where are you?
i mean yeah i should’ve tried harder.
but i didn’t wanna fall for you and end up broken.
but as everyone can see, that didn’t work to well.
you built me back up for 7 months.
and broke me down in a day.
“I started smoking cigarettes when you left.
Not because I wanted to begin a bad habit, but because nicotine had offered herself up as a companion every time the loneliness would set in.
The flame warmed my hands the way you used to do, and she was something I could depend on.
Just like you were.
You can’t hear someone screaming when you’re 1,800 miles away, but everyone else can.
I remember the night I said yes,
A future of smiling faces and an eternity of “I love you’s.”
Your face was bright and creased with laughter, but one of your knees was soiled from the gravel you had knelt in.
It rained the day I left;
And you seemed excited to start this new life you seemingly chose without me.
The pain in my stomach has finally started to subside, but I can’t seem to make this lump in my throat go away.
Since then, I’ve gotten used to the quiet.
Even when it’s loud.
Dinner for one, and my bed being colder.
Your voice used to be a symphony of words that would dance around my brain;
Tugging on the fragile receptors of happiness.
It left me feeling dizzy, but it was a high that made me feel like I was home.
It seems lately your melody has gone out of tune.
I spent nights trying to match our breathing once you had already fallen asleep, and days finishing your sentences like I could see the words fashioning themselves on the tip of your tongue.
Now I try to read your eyes just like I used to read my favorite book;
Through bad reception and pixelated screens.
You’ve never stopped being beautiful, even with 1 bar.
The subway you take to work drowns out every “come home” and “wish you were here” that I’ve ever whispered to the wall—
But it’s not like you could hear me anyway.
My nights are no longer spent under the safety of your arms or the paralyzing touch of your hands,
But instead on the cold, solid concrete beneath me.
Sometimes I can find comfort within the twisted walls of my own reality,
and if I listen close, the voices speak soft enough to keep me company.
I reach for my lighter like I used to reach for you, my left hand feeling heavier than it has before.
Tonight, I’ll fall asleep with an empty box of cigarettes in my hands,
Knowing that the convenience store is always so much closer than you."
ever since i’ve started soccer again i’ve been extremely hungry.
this is bad.
i just ate 6 slices of pizza
i’ve drunk 2.2 liters of water
ate 2/3 of a bag of hot fries
earlier i ate like 4 sausages
and now i’m drinking 20 oz of 7 up
AABP: Pissing people off since, well, earlier this morning, I guess?
(this will be our 5th ever post, btw. it only took 5 posts, guys! new world record!)
awk moment when i don’t remember following this crazy blog lol