Adam's Song by Blink-182

I don't really know what's up, but I can't think of much lately. So here's a song that I've had stuck in my head since I heard it:

I never thought I'd die alone
I laughed the loudest who'd have known
I traced the cord back to the wall
No wonder it was never plugged in at all
I took my time, I hurried up
The choice was mine, I didn't think enough
I'm too depressed, to go on
You'll be sorry when I'm gone

I never conquered, rarely came
16 just held such better days
Days when I still felt alive
We couldn't wait to get outside
The world was wide, too late to try
The tour was over we'd survived
I couldn't wait till I got home
To pass the time in my room alone

I never thought I'd die alone
Another six months I'll be unknown
Give all my things to all my friends
You'll never set foot in my room again
You'll close it off, board it up
Remember the time that I spilled the cup
Of apple juice in the hall
Please tell mom this is not her fault

I never conquered, rarely came
16 just held such better days
Days when I still felt alive
We couldn't wait to get outside
The world was wide, too late to try
The tour was over we'd survived
I couldn't wait till I got home
To pass the time in my room alone

I never conquered, rarely came
Tomorrow holds such better days
Days when I can still feel alive
When I can't wait to get outside
The world is wide, the time goes by
The tour is over, I'd survived
I can't wait till I get home
To pass the time in my room alone

Enjoy. :)?

It's nice to know you're hated.

Who are you to ask anything of anyone?
You deserve nothing.
You are below dirt.
Anything below dirt needs nothing,
not even air to breathe or sun to soak.
Darkness is where you started.
Back to square one again.
And who will come to your rescue?
The hand you once held,
but then rejected,
where is that hand?
Clamber and scramble,
alone, scared, shaking, spinning.
Ask for the hand you once held,
but then rejected.
It cannot plunge into dirt and darkness.
Too late.
Who are you to ask anything of anyone?
Even for she who begged for so long,
just to get tossed aside.
One too many mistakes.
Enjoy the blackness that is your new home.

Joy Ride

Freedom,
sweet freedom!
Howl at the moon
from the window
on the driver's side.
Grin at it with
gleaming white teeth.
Stare with glimmering eyes
barred in by heavy
black eyeliner and
too much mascara.
Playing the part
wearing a leather jacket
and wildly curly hair.
Trying too hard to look
older, more mature.
Blast the radio!
Make the adventure heard
and release the inner
caged animal
clawing at its prison!
White knuckles clutch
the steering wheel.
A kiss for good luck.
Laugh as a foot hits the gas
a bit harder
than anticipated.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Forever apologizing.
So much for the rebellion
disguised as maturity.
The bark will regrow.
Scars will heal.
Does reverse work in life, too?
No face will look the same,
cursed with the stain
of stupidity.
Never again
will the glimmer shine.

Untitled.

Poof?
Or boom?
Slip slowly?
Or hard fall?
Surprise!
Or see it coming
a mile away?
Comfort?
Or solitude?
Premeditated?
Self-inflicted?
Or from someone
that you would kill for?
Yes,
or no?

Flicker, flicker, blow.
Smokey spindles.
Or perhaps a harsh wind
to chill to the bones
of those who watch
you lifeless.
And you lay,
color drained,
on your back.
Funny.
That's how you ended up
here
in the first place.

Just because you can't see something, doesn't mean it's not there.

Hidden under the ice and snow
is the place you laid with me that summer night.

Underneath your hard outer shell
is the love you showed me all those years.

Stretching toward the forgiveness from you
is a hand looking to hold yours.

Sitting alone in the cold and darkness
is the person forever waiting for you.

Proof that girls handle more than Boy Scouts

Boy Scout: I can make a fire and sustain it for 6 hours.
Girl: Well I can make people and sustain them for 9 months.

Boy Scout: I can tie a rope in over 20 different ways.
Girl: Well I can squirt out an alien. It's attached to a rope. Try and tie that one.

Boy Scout: I can rough it in the woods for a weekend. No shower.
Girl: I can bleed for a week and not die. Repeatedly.

Just some thoughts...

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.” ~ William Somerset Maugham

I came across this the other day and for some reason or another, it spoke to me. I realized how completely true it is and I am starting to think that this is what true love is: loving someone no matter who they become. And it's realizations such as this one that makes me wish certain people knew about this experiment of mine.

I speak the truth

Trying so hard to hide from me is laughable.
Watching you be so ignorant amuses.
Also, you really need to shave.

Untitled

Save me from me,

Come back to remind me of who I was.

Don’t leave my heart here on the table.

Tell me all you have to tell.

Give me all you have to give.

Show me that I don’t have to walk alone.

I need you to bring me back to life.

I want you to be mine again.

Do what you want, say what you will,

throw the first fist, I could care less.

Just show me that I exist to you.

You don’t need to tell me you love me,

you don’t need to show me you care.

Call me yours and make me real.

I need you, to be me.

You are my everything.

I’ll take back anything I said,

I’ll undo whatever I did wrong,

I’ll do whatever you want

if you promise to love me again.

Only this time, don’t take it back.

Green-eyed monster come out to play.

I see the way you look at her,
the way you talk to her.
I can't help but get upset.
I remember how you used to be that way with me.
I can hear it in your voice.
You found your new someone, your new everything.
And I hate her for it.

It's not quite suicide if you were just playing pretend.

It's not quite suicide if you were just playing pretend.
It's not quite death if you meant to wake up.
It's not quite grief if you couldn't do anything.
It's not quite repetition if you don't know what you're repeating.
It's not quite fear if you knew what you were doing.
It's not quite blind if you saw his eyes.
It's not quite a joke if you're the only one laughing.
It's not quite suicide if you were just playing pretend.

Memoirs of a Single Mom (Part 3)

It's Friday, 6p.m.
A ring from the doorbell, three knocks, ring again.
That same old stupid routine of his.
I sigh and force myself to walk to the door,
to the so-called "man" that broke my heart
and has come to take my world away like every Friday before
(meanwhile fighting every urge to lock up
and leave him standing there).
The usual, hollow script to follow upon opening:
Hello, how are you, what time do I get him back?
Damn the courts.
He doesn't deserve the weekends
even if he thinks it's his "right".
Damn the agreements.
He doesn't deserve to take everything I work for away.
Damn him.
My world is my own.
Not for any other selfish pig,
who could care less about the mother of his child,
to take as he pleases.
A check and lonliness every week
like I'm some cheap, unappreciated whore.
Is this life?
What it's all about?
Fighting with the man I once loved?
This isn't how I saw it.
He probably doesn't even care about his kid.
Just takes him to stab and twist at me
over and over again.
Bring him back.
He belongs with me, not you.
You screwed me over once already.
End my suffering.

I'm still waiting.

I love you.
Love you.
Love.
Love?
I tore down walls for you,
ripped through all my barriers,
untied every safety net
and walked the tightrope to security,
to my life with you.
Don't look down.
And you told me you loved me.
You promised me everything.
You promised me my future.
You said I was everything to you,
the reason why you're even here.
And now,
all you promise me is black nothingness.
A void.
Empty spaces.
Don't you see me?
Notice me standing here, awaiting your embrace?
Looking for a steady hand to hold?
Do you even care?
No, of course not,
he's a big boy now,
all ready to be his own person.
Cuz he's not happy here with me,
with the person he said he'd love forever.
He promised.
But he doesn't need me like I need him.
He has my heart and he chose to walk away with it.
Three, two, one, gone.
Please, tell me, look my way,
right here in my eyes,
the ones you said were so beautiful,
and honestly say to me that you can't see
the tears and pain
in plain sight.