and since his death there will always be the feeling, the feeling that i wasn't worth sticking around for

unhappy before me
sad when you're with me
lonely without me,
so tell me what's worse?

verse from a song that i have yet to write. maybe we can work on it together

untitled

i hope you say my name in your sleep.
i hope you miss me.
i want to tear you up inside.
inside out.

untitled

i am standing in quick time next to the street
in a rush of blood to my heart i could jump out
be hit by any vehicle, cyclist-pathetic.
but i am numb from these things,
i jolt awake like from a bad dream, only i dont have many dreams anymore
just half awake half asleep world, with thoughts outstretching their way across the
city, only to be closer to you,
so hold your tongue
dont tell me what you are
just hold your tongue

im pissed off that no one ever just wants me. simple. just me.

i wouldn't lift one finger. i wouldn't lift one tendon/joint/appendage
to give you a hand and i know you would not do the same

i've been dancing in the shadow of the moon and the thought of you has made me
crave more more more, and its starting to swell up like a mosquito bite,
itchy....and i know it will leave a mark if i scratch at it. so i leave it.
i don't lift one finger.

if i could pretend you didn't exist i would, if i hadn't have committed myself to you like
a crime i'm sure i would be with someone genuine, someone who says they want me and they do. and i'm sure if i didn't make that promise to be yours, if i had waited, then maybe i would be yours, with the return of you being mine.

all i know is, you would never lift one finger for me, and mine hands are bound tightly behind my back