bordeauxlumiere

there are thousands of things that no one tells you about losing your father, or being a fat anorexic, or deciding to tear your skin apart while no one's looking. they don't tell you "think about five years from now. do you want to be chained to a hospital bed or do you want to be going to a high school dance?" they say, "you're gonna regret that" so you end up missing your high school dance because you have too many scars and because you won't eat and you are sad. of course you regret whatever it was, to suggest you don't is ridiculous....

well i still love your smile even though you only smile when you're going on about her i asked if i'd ever made you happy turns out that at one point you smiled when you talked about me i like your face, and the shadows that capture it when she leans in to kiss you i still smell like you, and so does this bed i keep turning the shower hotter and hotter but no amount of boiling will forgive the paths that your fingertips made i wish i'd never met you but you live right across the fucking street

your hands are soft and i wouldn't mind holding them your words echo and i wouldn't mind hearing them once more your smile is the brightest thing and i wouldn't mind if you smiled at me you make me shake and i wouldn't mind if you stilled me, too your iPod is flooded and i wouldn't mind if you sang each song to me you think in riddles and i wouldn't mind solving them on a rainy sunday morning your jokes are terrible and i wouldn't mind feigning a laugh you are clever and i wouldn't mind spending a lifetime figuring you out there are words inked on your arm and i wouldn't mind deciphering their meanings, tracing the letters my fingerti

He walked in, and sat on my bed. Said nothing. Did nothing. I swear to god I don’t even think he so much as took a breath. Just sort of sat there. Until all of a sudden it all came out. Like a hurricane. Just like that. "Brendon I’m pretty sure I love you and I’m almost positive I’ve felt this way for a long time dear god I sound of a blabbering idiot but come on don’t you feel something? Because I feel everything I hate you and I love you all at once and when I’m with you it all fades away but sticks prominently in my mind. You know when you rub your eyes and from nowhere all the shapes and colors appea

I'm sitting on his chest, and for a moment we're children again. He laughs, and I can feel his breath swirling underneath me- his ribs inflating with joy. Frank pushes me off and gets a mouthful of my hair in the process. We don't really mind. After all, we're bandmates. Best friends. I'm laughing like a school child and out of nowhere I want to kiss him. I don't. For five seconds I'm an irrational, drunk, infatuated, crazy fifteen year old. I'm high on the laughter circling the room, encasing us in the moment. I'm not fifteen, though- I'm twenty two. I'm a somewhat successful musician with a passion for eyeliner. I'm a man. Men don't giggle

so i wrote it all down      only to discover that pencil smears across the paper and words lose meaning. i slashed each wrist      only to learn that stitches can bind me together rendering my suicide note useless. i tried to make myself invisible      but the hospital just stuck a tube down my nose all i wanted was to be small. i laughed and told you i was okay      little did you know i wasn't but you believed my lies.

Some days, I'm absolutely convinced that the sun rises just to illuminate your crooked smile, your messy hair, and those cheekbones and their shadows that dance across the hallows of your face. I cannot even fathom making heads or tails of you. In a grey, grey world you are stunningly black and white. Still, your contrast becomes desaturated in a world that lives to suck the blood from anything original. And I worry you will fade away faster than you appeared, and there will be nothing I can do or say to slow it down or stop it completely.

perhaps you'll understand the meaning of cool but will you ever know what it's like to cry to yourself at four am suppose you know how to make people like you they'll tell you they love you but will you ever even need to learn to love yourself you wear that dress with such confidence but have you ever stood on a scale and cried you are proud of your ex boyfriends and the platitudes murmured to you each morning but are you proud of the scars you carved so deep into my bones are you proud of the words you said to me are you proud of the way you made me feel are you proud of anything tangible, real are you proud?