feel so disconnected, so disjointed. who am i tonight and where are you and what are you doing now that my limbs are shaking in silence.

there are things rotting on my desk that he left there, turning brown i the air, sitting atop empty beer cans. i can't move them because i just don't care enough to. 

trust, no. 

locked in.

worn out, 

weathered skin.

betray myself,

you're wearing thin.

head rush, head rush

i think too much, i'll lose too much. 

-

i wanted something i couldn't have, now i don't know what i want or what i have. 

i crave comfort and novelty. it makes me sick to watch things die. 

tu penses que je ne t'écoute plus. 

vengeance. 

04-09

there's a pervasive hiss, a ringing in my ears continually...

it' just the unformed buzz of five different conversations filtered through the rumbling of the bass, but it seems so much louder than anything i've heard before. it just won't fo away and it's all i can hear, though your lips are moving, shapes that should be familiar, your eyes burning with quiet rage as you struggle to keep your voice under control. 

no matter, i can't hear you, it won't matter how loud it gets.

i just see it over and over and over again, the hissing the only soundtrack. 

sometimes i feel as though i'm the only one areound me aware of the possibility of failure and so, in order to better public awareness of the matter, i must choose it. 

breaks me

wastes me

wakes me

kill me, time

i'm so tired of being here, exhausted and awake and disinterested and unfocused and unstable and everything maes me sad or angry or confused or jealous but it's really the envy that's getting to me because at least you care, fuck. 

absolutely maddening. 

I react more physically than emotionally or intellectually. The left side of my jaw is locked up and my arms are tense, my fingertips feel knotted.

is this what it's like to be a part of the bed and nothing more?

I'm not trying to be needy.

i won't even hold you to your own standards when i at look at you. 

i'm going to snap. 

I find myself here again and again and again and again. 

I always grasp for what I've had before, pretend as I may that things can change, that I don't just make the same mistakes.  I'm so absorbed in the intricacies of the drops on my tongue because I'd rather touch than feel, and if pushed I'll choose sandpaper over suede. I'm so caught up in my own self. 

Libra. 

Some people just can't empathize. 

When was the last time a film really moved you?

I want to learn to draw just to sketch myself in

Wax crayons cross all the lines I would never dare to, 

my risk taking is ill though out. 

closure is intolerable, i live only in spaces that are open wounds. 

i want to know, i need to know everything. 

i float, i drift

i wish we could lace our fingers together once again

hold on to the side of this inflatable wreck

place a finger over the hole from which i am leaking all of these thoughts.