why can’t my actions be explicable. i feel led around on a chain by the complexities involved with these decrepit inner workings. the way i feel should tell me everything, but my feelings have yet to speak with clarity. they seem to function through a set of tangled wires. a jumble of discontented lines, tied to the ends of nervous sighs, and wrapped in a romantic outer guise. i want to make sense to myself for once, instead of ultimately confusing everyone. if i could explain my actions to them, maybe someone, somewhere, would agree with them. why must i only feel when i’m breaking. the feeling of being whole is impossible, but a body comprised of missing pieces, to all these different puzzles, is handed to me for the taking. confusion is all i know to feel.

why can’t my feelings be simple. sometimes it feels more like falling in circles. in an orbit. always trying to hit the ground, but continuing to be spun around. maybe i’m just getting dizzy. or maybe words stopped being enough to explain what i’m feeling. i’m told commitment’s a slow and delicate task. maybe i’ve always given myself away too fast. after watching everything you feel fall apart, can you possibly bear the trauma of another broken heart. to anyone else it’s just another pile of shards. that pile, to me, is the pieces stabbing with every beat of my heart.

i don’t love, i hurt. i tear myself on a dotted line, marked by the tiniest cracks from the hardest times. it’s the little things that never disappear. they can be forgiven, but that’s much different from forgetting. to make sense to someone else, first you have to understand yourself. i don’t think i’ve ever been able to concieve, when i look in the mirror, why i see a monster instead of me. i’m sick of knowing who i am. i don’t love, i hurt

the alarm clock blared a warning of distress. the sound of the chimes meant awaking in a lonely bed. do i want to wake up? is it worth a day without the comfort of your voice? i wont even get the subtle pleasure of rolling over the impression of you in the matress. i can tell because the warmth from your pillow has gone. it was my motivation. you were my catalyst. you lit the flame that would start my day. why must your pillow be so cold? i thought you said you’d never leave. i thought you had promised me the security of sleeping, embraced by the girl of my dreams. the girl i wanted you to be. but the absence of a good morning sigh, that acted in response to mine is enough to keep me in this bad all the time.

i have this picture in my mind of how our photos would be the talk of the of our friends. they’d say we look perfect. yeah, we’re something special. and how there’s no way our fairy tale could end. sometimes we could pretend, that everything is still like it was back then. and i pray that one day you’ll fill my bed again. but that’s just a dream. another wish, lost over the rainbow.

somewhere just outside of kansas, there’s a factory where our dreams are made. for the sole purpose of a reason for our hearts to break. why must i fall for the deception every chance that i take?

the sun ran to our window, and peeked in through the blinds. it said we looked so happy, lying there as one. and i think we felt it too. maybe it’s the warmth you feel, when you meet someone who makes your house a home. or maybe it’s more the comfort of not sleeping alone. but when my eyes snapped themselves open, letting the light into the room, waking up to your head pressed against my shoulder i felt so beautiful. you looked so peaceful while you were dreaming, i laid there and watched you sleep. i felt you looking at me through your closed eyes , i couldnt help but feel complete. i still can’t help but smile when i remember, this time last week no sun was at my window. i was tired of feeling helpless. i was sick of feeling alone. but this moment changed my view point, and helped me see me for who i am. and as you lied there without a clue, i simply looked at you, and whispere, "i must be the luckiest man."

our fairy tale is dead. it hung itself from everywhere that we crucified ourselves. the noose is laced around the throat. cinderella was a lie. and all it was, was something beautiful. but angels die and hearts still break. we can never not be a pitiful example of such a pathetic emotion. love is our lie, and i’m sick of using you as my excuse. our story was meant to be tragic. why is it you only hear about the heros, the heros that found their bride. let’s hear a tale of the loser’s who could never make the princess in their dreams be the woman of their lives.
so i fell heart first for her. the pain from loss is worth the joy of being loved. it’s whether you’re worth the pain that hurts so much.

"excuse me sir, can you help me find a cure?" i said "i found my angel. i think i’m addicted to heaven. my heads been in the clouds since her eyes met mine. it’s hard to keep my feet on the ground. i saw her halo. there’s a light from her eyes. a light touched by saints. i felt so peaceful. she casually smiled and i melted. hence the puddle of lovesick slime before you. she burns me like candle wax. i’m melting. or am i sinking. i think i need more help, than i can give myself. it seems the stars get brighter over her head. or maybe i just get lost in her eyes."

so the man leaned back and sighed. he closed his eyes as if he had a simple reply. he said " boy, you’re in love. you can’t deny it to yourself. so stop lying to yourself." he said " dont worry about the clouds. don’t mind that you are weightless. forget what you’ve learned before, in fact you’re seeing clearest."

with one last line, my feelings were defined, he just put them in clear sight. he said "you’re in love. you’re one of the lucky ones. you’re not sinking but melting into her. you’re ok i’m sure."

it was as if he drank my pain. his words felt so correct. as i turned to walk away he called my name. "one last thing dont make my mistake. make sure she knows you’re heart isn’t playing sick. take her by the hand and tell her she’s beautiful. tell her why you’ll never let her go. there’ll be no regrets." he said "you’re in love. that should be enough. there’s no point to why she won’t be over joyed."

why must you crowd me with your company? it’s hard enough to let you go, but you insist to remind me why that’s a problem. yes, i was wrong and proved that i’m worthless. alone is good friendship. i can only hurt myself. please learn to forgive me, i dont want to hurt anyone else. your presence is torture. i’m not sure i can go on like i dont need you. it hurts to love you like this. i’ll carve it in my forehead with golden trim. this time i’m not leaving unless you’re with me. i hate this room. on the wall my heart hangs. our ghosts haunt this basement. it’s value is stained on my lips. all i see is you smiling, then remember me walking away. this room just gets smaller. the regret is growing. forgive me and come with me. we’ll call it love for the first time. we’ll forget that we happened.we’ll forget that we broke and, we’ll piece back together. the worst is over.

there’s no one that i can turn to. i would only turn to you. the cuts on my palms from building your throne have begun to sting. maybe the salt from my tears is mixing in. you see, we’ve come all this way and now you tell me your sick of waiting for me to catch up with your racing heart. i said i’m sorry, princess, but my legs just can’t keep up. from the feedback of our bodies and the static of your voice i can tell we’re breaking up. watching figure eights break in half is not the ideal way to live. and i’m tired of telling myself you’ll change. i’m sorry, it’s just not working. i want an angel complete with distress. the loss has taught her that her wings don’t make her. but all that i can find is you who makes me have to read between the lines, leaving me open for confusion and misinterpretation. you may be a princess but you’ll never be an angel. and princess, you will never be a god. your proof is right around this bend. this car is definitely crashing. there’s no time to wonder what turn we took was wrong. but this road is certainly over. our affairs are absolutely done. and trees are astonishing when tangled in pieces of fiberglass and the shards of windshield drenched in what lays remaining of our legacy. it’s all that’s left of our catastrophe. our catastrophe that made so much clarity. you were just a waste of thought and we were running out of time. yeah you were beautiful. i guess we really were perfect. but i dont worry anymore.



ok i’ll admit this is by far not the best thing i’ve written in a while, but just understand that i havnt been in much of an artsy mood lately for some reason and you can’t push perfection. but i made an attempt today anyway so enjoy..

did i just fall from heaven, because the impact was very real. and the jolts of pain that followed were the pounding that gave it away. when i landed i hurt and i felt my heart shatter. along with it broke my legs and my spine. i don’t have the courage to look for the person i’d loved, nor the ablity to walk the miles. do you still think i could look at you and see someone worth my time. well you are no longer on my clock after making sure i was more dead than alive.

we were two children betrothed with somewhere to go. that’s a contradiction that just doesnt happen. and forgive me for i forgot you live forever. and i just brush away with the love on our shoulders. i am light weight and nothing more valued than what i now see in you.

how pathetic was i when i thought we were perfect. i was blind not to see we were nothing. suicide would be a charity. i’d die in allegiance to the freedom where all loose ends tie. and i’ll go out with a smile. finally i feel nothing. too bad the nothing is more harsh. in the end we learned the only thing that’s forever is the stains in one’s heart, and the scars that put them there.

time ablazed. tonight i’ve sewn friendships shut by threads of rivalry. i’m not proud but somethings you break you cannot fix. once again i take too many steps forward. jumping to conclusions of burning reason. i remember when it used to be the other way around. i’d appologize but appologies are just words and word’s are all "i’m sorry’s" are anymore. i told you i was ugly and now i’ve proved it. if there was a way to paint myself like i really am, in colors of hatred, self loathing and in reasons that hearts break. instead my name is fake which fits me oh so well. forget me. it might be the best thing you never regret.

i can see your in love by the way you talk like you don’t know what to say. how your tongue ties to the words caught in your throat. and the flare in your eye when he’s around. is jealousy wrong? should i pretend i feel nothing for you because he’s my best friend? but i’ll stay quiet for as long as you dont make your move. save your breath. i can read it off your face. tonight caught fire and burned down next to me. the stars are ashes. the sky a memory. and you aren’t as much as a secret to me. is it wrong for me to hate him? because i can’t stand in the blistering cold, underneath a display case, watching the two of you show off how i feel for you. you’ll never know how much i burn for you. but i won’t say a word. as long as you’re happy, my name is silence. but that doesnt mean i can take it. i can’t sit back and watch the girl of my dreams slip out through my hands. tonight the stars are ashes. tonight, the sky a broken dream hanging over you and him in a deep embrace. tonight the moon’s my only friend as we watch my heart tear from my chest. goodbye bright color. hello grey. welcome to cloudy weather everyday. is it wrong to hate the rain?

rain like steel on the silk pressed to her bones. her porcelain smile pressed to the sky. stars for eyes at each rainbows end. the sunset a stain. but the reflection. oh, the reflection. the mirror image of a dying skyline. her waist the horizon. dusk born from her hair. she holds the moon to the night. a simple perfection. starred with glam and scarred with heartbreak. my kind of girl is heaven in hell. her wings drive the wind. there we touch. we paint sunsets of our own. somewhere over the rainbow she waits for me. biding her time with her heart of gold in hands held out in offering. she’s somewhere out there. somewhere over the rainbow.

once upon a time there was a thing of pankake battr
the pankake battr waz sitting in the cabinet for years and years
the old pankake battr luvd itz cabinet.
it luvvd talking to the good little cake mixes and brownie mixes that would cum and go
until one day
the boi who livd in the house woke up hungy
the pankake battr, from her cabinet, lisend to the boi rummage thru all the other cabinets looking for sum breakfast
the pankake battr waz skurrd
the brownie mix turnd to her and sed.. "dont worry pankake battr we all go sumtime"
and the pankake battr replied " but i dont wanna go. i like my cabinet here next to you".. so the brownie mix sed "do you wanna die a virgin?" the pankake battr sed no. so the pankake battr and the brownie mix had a little kwikkie before the boi got to their cabinet...
and then they herd a noise cumming from out in front of the door
it waz the boi
he had cum from the depths of food hell to take the pankake battr away
the boi reacht into the cabinet and pulld out the pankake battr
the boi turnd on the stove and the boi got hiz pankakes.
but the brownie mix had fallen in love with the pankake battr
so watching the pankake battr cook and die made the brownie mix miserable
that night the brownie mix cried and cried and cried hiz little brownie mix tears in requiem and mourning.
oh how he luvd the pankake battr
the next aftrnoon waz the boiz birthday
the brownie mix herd that hiz mommy waz gonna make brownies for desert with the cake
this brought a smile to the brownie mix.
and needless to say.. the brownie mix waz mixed and eaten..did this bring the brownie mix down. no. no because the brownie mix saw hiz dearest oh so precious pankake battr and livd happily evr aftr betrothed in the arms of hiz pankake battr in food heaven.
the end

You belong to the melo punk clique. your against
all authority. you love loud music, piercings,
and of course.. fishnet. to avoid sounding too
steriotypical, your writting is some of the
best, and we all need to admit melo would be
nothing without the punks! go dye your hair and
show it off! ::WoOt::


What Melodramatic clique are You in?
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this is a pathetic attempt to just say the name of my crap band named Neon Squidnipples. we consist of me, my frend mark, and my frend edd. we play random impromptu crap songs and play them on one acoustic guitar. if you want to hear sum crap music that will make you giggle.. let me know.