Live. Laugh. Love.I don't understand.
You've used me as your crutch when things haven't gone so right in your life. I may have been 100 miles away, but as far as you were concerned, I was right by your side supporting you as you slowly fell apart. I watched as you crumbled into pieces and ripped yourself to shreds. I lapsed into hysteria as you took another pill; I was afraid my words weren't enough to keep you alive. It felt like it was my fault; it was my fault I wasn't there for you, it was my fault I couldn't find the words to make you stop drowning your sorrows. You wouldn't sleep, you couldn't sleep; she had taken every bit you were willing to give her and threw it away.
So even after I listened to every word you said, after I did everything physically possible, you're angry with me. You haven't learned anything: you're still arrogant because you're such a "stud muffin amongst the girls." You're still looking for the wrong people: your idea of a date is getting a girl in bed because you want her t
It takes the worldI'm so scared and you don't even know.
I wake up screaming in the night because I have these dreams where you leave. Just like he did. You tell me once again that you aren't him; you never were, you never will be, and you push my hair out of my face to kiss my forehead. I know you aren't him, but that doesn't mean I don't worry. I wonder what happens when I don't have you to hold anymore, when I can't breathe you in after a long day, and I just can't stand the thought of it.
Sometimes I feel like I've lost everyone and everything around me. I can't seem to find reality in this god-forsaken place. I try to wish among the stars but they keep falling down. How can I place my faith in something that can't keep itself on the right path? I've lost too much time and I won't ever get that back. There's simply no time.
No time for hopes.
No time for dreams.
No time for dancing amongst the swirling galaxies.
I have to pull together the seams ripping at my soul, the frayed edges of my sani
Cloudless SkySummer time in a desert is so disappointing; everything is so bare and dry. Sagebrush dots the hills occasionally, but they're mostly a vast amount of weeds just begging to catch on fire. When the hills burn, they burn.
Volcanic rocks from long ago lie exposed to the elements as reminders of a different time, reminders of a chaotic past full of raging volcanoes and tormenting storms.
If air could boil, the sun would certainly do so. It gets so bloody hot, and it makes living in an agricultural community miserable sometimes. Before work every morning, I try to predict the weather. I hope the sky will be full of those fluffy, white clouds I used to watch, but it's always just a cloudless sky; it's so hopeless and disappointing.