tragedyintheory

so check this:
he's got high water pants.
dirty blonde hair
in his eyes, a halo of gold about his ears.

dying from anticipation. breaking the news. this boy, this boy, he sounds too good to be true. a first kiss, upon a slender tender cheek of yours, before or on the nose of miss midnight.

this boy. slender and everything i would be. if...
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my eyeliner smeers like a mofo if you cry before you sleep. just so you know...

i ended up finding vodka. hm. it will do.

my parents dont need their tequila, right?

eight minute good byes and now im walking from your door. it was that long walk home in my car that was the hardest trial of self-restraint. i wanted to tear away from rational thought...

i wanted to tear away.
and roll over and down that hillside cliff.
i wanted to tear away.
and steal you off to dreamland at dawn.
i wanted to tear...
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from 8.18.02...

Silver eyes. You look to me and see only the broken self of you staring back. Cold. You try to take it back but no, you can't take it away from me. The mark has been made and forever remains soulbound to you, you knew that when you looked to me for sympathy and embrace you'd only find resentment and empathy with an...
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alright. i have no life.

i do, however, find some sort of comfort in sitting in this rotting room of blank white walls all day long. let the sun decay and fall behind the hills. watch the dying light scorch and scratch out our sore eyes. bleed the sockets through the hallowed whispers of the night. bleed your eye sight. see just what you want...
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took a short strole around the neighborhood. i watched my walk from my window through heavy blue smoke. i slept through the parts that i couldn't see.
dusted myself off and about to call it a night. or just retreating to a resort of music carrying from before midnight til the sun comes with eyelash kisses. perhaps tonight i wont sleep. and then i wouldnt...
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inspirational music. soothing melodies. calming harmonies. little trinkets of golden sound raining onto my ears. resting my eyes. easing my grip. opening my eyes.
its all right now. it was just a breath. a random image slide show running the tracks under the thinest layer of skin. too bad, im sorry, but the railroad leads you in a circle and welcome back so soon.
everyone...
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poke fun at the emo boy. give him something to cry about tonight at home when he is all alone in the dark weeping to all of his sad and sorrowful vinyls.

certainly chat up the object of every little boy's fantasy standing at the door way by star light the black velvet traced in crayons of purple lights up another cigarette. tell her your...
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