....I would burn all my comics, smash all by cd's, brake all my toys and models, melt my vinyl's in a microwave, put my wardrobe in a blender, give my guitars away, punch my mom in the mouth, kick my dad in the nuts, cut all my friends (if I still had any) hearts out and eat them, put my books in a hole the ground and forget where I burried them, grow up, never make another fart joke ever again, intentionally miss and refuse to see any super-hero movie, keep my hand out of my pants and never so much as scratch an itch around that spot, chop off my penis, shave my side burns, and any other from of petitiance i can pay if it meant I got you back.
I wish I could belive you...that your the anmolie (spelling) in the system. The one girl that could still carry a torch for me. I don't think your a practicioner of loki like tactics. In fact its easier for me to pretend you hate me, than to hear you say you miss me. No one ever misses me. And I can't help but think that if you miss me... maybe you could tell a judge in your words and not your moms that you miss me, and that I was right for you. And that maybe if you miss me...theres hope. And where theres hope theres a way. With hope theres always a way if you have enough of it.
And if I said to wait for me...I know you wouldn't do it. I couldn't ask you do it. I know theres something so much better than me out there. I'm not fit for the company of others so i'm choosing (or is it because i have other options other than fat women men and 15yearolds or 19yearolds who act 15) a life of solitude. I can't imagine if I said don't move on you'd listion. Cause i couldn't ask you that.
My dirty little secret...I've been praying. Praying that you find your better half. Praying that both of you find happiness and security. Praying that no bastard drunks take you out of this world before I can maybe see you from far away one last time. Praying that your little girl will turn out ok after what i've done. Praying...hehh...its something I don't like to talk about and shouldn't post.
And funnier still I prayed one night when I read that you we're lonely that someone would make your life sparkle. That morning a voice woke me early...said to go read. I couldn't explain the urge or notion just something told to me read your journal. And to my surprise...nothing was there! Blank. Had I been tricked? Maybe i was becoming one of those parnoid zealots hearing the voice of christ almighty in his brain that i bad motuh so much. That after noon I read about a boy who captivated your heart. And i was slightly happy, heart brooken, but satisfied. I thought to myself, shit maybe i should've asked you to take me back instead see where that got me. But after laughing out loud at the irony of gettign what I asked for, I reminded myself how selfish I sounded.
As for thinking your horrible...I don't. I can't stop thinking about you. Part of me wishes i could. I wish I could write a song that didn't pertain to you or your daughter. I wish every time I stared at the stars unabashed the milwuakee lights ove this humble little vila of corn fields I would pretend you were by side so we could pontificate there meaning. BUt most of all I wish i'd never gone and fucked up so bad...and could learn and stop fucking up. I'm only happy if your happy. really.
I wish I could belive you...that your the anmolie (spelling) in the system. The one girl that could still carry a torch for me. I don't think your a practicioner of loki like tactics. In fact its easier for me to pretend you hate me, than to hear you say you miss me. No one ever misses me. And I can't help but think that if you miss me... maybe you could tell a judge in your words and not your moms that you miss me, and that I was right for you. And that maybe if you miss me...theres hope. And where theres hope theres a way. With hope theres always a way if you have enough of it.
And if I said to wait for me...I know you wouldn't do it. I couldn't ask you do it. I know theres something so much better than me out there. I'm not fit for the company of others so i'm choosing (or is it because i have other options other than fat women men and 15yearolds or 19yearolds who act 15) a life of solitude. I can't imagine if I said don't move on you'd listion. Cause i couldn't ask you that.
My dirty little secret...I've been praying. Praying that you find your better half. Praying that both of you find happiness and security. Praying that no bastard drunks take you out of this world before I can maybe see you from far away one last time. Praying that your little girl will turn out ok after what i've done. Praying...hehh...its something I don't like to talk about and shouldn't post.
And funnier still I prayed one night when I read that you we're lonely that someone would make your life sparkle. That morning a voice woke me early...said to go read. I couldn't explain the urge or notion just something told to me read your journal. And to my surprise...nothing was there! Blank. Had I been tricked? Maybe i was becoming one of those parnoid zealots hearing the voice of christ almighty in his brain that i bad motuh so much. That after noon I read about a boy who captivated your heart. And i was slightly happy, heart brooken, but satisfied. I thought to myself, shit maybe i should've asked you to take me back instead see where that got me. But after laughing out loud at the irony of gettign what I asked for, I reminded myself how selfish I sounded.
As for thinking your horrible...I don't. I can't stop thinking about you. Part of me wishes i could. I wish I could write a song that didn't pertain to you or your daughter. I wish every time I stared at the stars unabashed the milwuakee lights ove this humble little vila of corn fields I would pretend you were by side so we could pontificate there meaning. BUt most of all I wish i'd never gone and fucked up so bad...and could learn and stop fucking up. I'm only happy if your happy. really.