moleskine: here's to wishful thinking

inspiration is lost on me
i wish i had more to say
or had more words to say all these things with
i wish for clarity and remorse
that all the ice would melt to reveal a beautiful earth
i wish writers weren't so bitter and artist's weren't so hopeful
i wish i was just a piece of paper and for someone else to decide what is written on my surface

pale white

sometimes i wish upon elephants 

lowlier things

i should write a book
a book about those who i love
or loved
or want to love
a book describing how these awful emotions feel
and about how wonderful they seem
i am one of those miserable people
someone who only hates lovers because i am so filled with love myself
someone who hates the thought of progression
who only lives in moments
who wishes for the end
someone obsessed
someone who wishes for someone else to fail
only so they can pick the awful failure up
and give that someone else the love that no one else wants
i should write a book

eventually is inevitable

two years
two months
and 24 days later

ashes to ashes

lead me through the woods

tear apart my soul 

fix my wooden heart 

tell me you hate me 

we have to wait our turn 

IFEELWEIRD.

and if a double decker bus
crashes into us
to die by your side
is such a heavenly way to die
and if a ten-ton truck
kills the both of us
to die by your side
well.
the pleasure- the privelage is mine

Who I will...

Butterflies...