better

Love yourself.

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For all the times that you rain on my parade…

Years go by, and you find yourself still thinking things through. The tiny moments, the big moments, everything and in between. Maybe I never loved you as much as you loved you. That’s fine, I’m good. Thats the thing with memories, we pray to forget and find ourselves starving to remember. Thanks for the memories, but I am not holding on anymore.  Days go by and I realized you loved you, better than anyone else could.

Turn a new leaf, change. Speak about how much you changed because you’re only impressing yourself. You can preach all you want. You can tell every single soul, I was wrong. I don’t care anymore. I don’t. I was crazy. I was the weird one. I was everything you want to tell everyone. Tell them. Your words mean nothing to me. When you look in the mirror you’re gonna realize, you’re just as bad as I am. Maybe worse. At least I have the common decency to admit my faults.  I was wrong. I was stupid, but now I know.

..now I know. I’m better sleeping on my own. 

You’re perfect. You’re better than everyone else. You’re so fucking talented and everyone else is a fucking chump. Well, guess what? Maybe you’re right, but I’d like to think you’re wrong. Even perfect people have flaws and you have them all. Every word you told me will come back to haunt you. Or maybe it won’t. I couldn’t care less any more. I hope you know that one day, you’re gonna need somebody and they won’t be there. Even the people that love you can hurt you. “Sorry” doesn’t change the past, maybe you should know that.

When the song plays out and you’re all alone, I hope my words will find you. The only person you cared enough about was yourself. The only person you could truly love is yourself. That’s fine, that’s good, I’m cool. Now go on, love yourself.

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11/16/2010

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This Town.

This is my Town.  This is my city. This is my home when shit gets gritty.
I see the lights, hear the sounds, and know everything will be okay now.

This is my block, this is my home. These are my streets that lead me home. It doesn’t matter where I am going. It just matters how long before I come back to the familiar stench of this familiar city. I watch things come, I watch things go. People are free to come and go as they please. Leave and return, everything will be okay soon.

I want more. I want more than the bare boned buildings that become nothing more than skeletons of our past. More than this slowing pulse of people settling, growing further away from who they used to be. A million mistakes away from our future self. A thousand forgiven apologizes in the form of morphed manipulation into something different. This town changes you. This town keeps your grounded. This town sucks at the empty soul of your youth and helps settle you into the bitter adulthood.

We were all those crazy kids once. Kids that travelled to larger cities, bigger than our hometown. Away from the familiar streets. Away from the roads that lead us home. Seeking adventure, seeking life, seeking something bigger than this mundane life. You could always go home, they say. Always come back to this town that stayed embedded into your brain.

We grow up to hate each other. Grow up bitter from our past and grow up to shatter the shells of our former selves. This isn’t what was suppose to happen. This wasn’t how I was suppose to be. We all said we’d be friends forever. Now I can’t even look at half of your faces. We grow up to be better versions of ourselves. When does that actually start? Half of us aren’t better, instead we are bitter. I can’t stand by this anymore.

This town is home when it feels fit to be. This town is my town, whenever I want it to be.

 

Closer.

Don’t come any closer.

Don’t treat me like the others. I know all the things you only tell girls in the dark. I know every single one of your deep dark secrets and everything you want us to believe. You’ll deny it. Tell me, I am the crazy one. I know you never mean it. Everything you say is just actions from your reactions. You never mean all the nasty things you say. A sorry from you are just words wasting space in my memory. “I’m sorry” sounds like a tragic song that has no ending. I want to believe you, believe me I do, because deep down you mean it. Its what you tell all the other girls. All the other girls that believe you when you cry and mean every word you say.

Don’t say another word.

I could recite your lines, word for word. These never ending monologues of right and wrong, saint and savior. Every single thing you tell girls in the dark. It would only be fair if I told everyone how you felt. Told them all your secrets and spilled out all your lies. All those things you only tell girls in the dark. Hurting you would show that maybe for once you could feel something other than nothing.  Something other than the hatred that you bring out of everyone.

Don’t touch me.

You crave the warmth of a body to lay beside you. It doesn’t matter who it is. Someone to fill the void of being alone with your thoughts and your cold black heart. You can never be alone. It paralyzes you to think of spending all these waking days alone. Keeping us under lock and key and heavy retainer. Break in case of emergency. Have I said too much? Or should I just keep going.

Telling all these secrets to people that think they know you. They’ll be next and what follows is someone after. There’s always someone else. Brighter, better, and stronger. Always someone else. A line of pretty girls that you only like in the dark. I won’t be one of them. Not tonight, not ever.

2/11/2007