||dashboard confessional- broken hearts and concrete floors
nothing's changed in the way you look at me. the tension is like the humidity on a hot july day, drinking pink lemonade in the shade of your porch. you try to speak, but all you can do is pant. summer days lead into into nights where fireflies rest on the tip of a finger. the kids drag out the jars with the holes on the top, and beg to keep their softly lit prizes, just as i beg to keep you. july wastes away and i'll soon be gone. the laughs that kept us alive all that time silently fade into autumn, and lightening bugs fall to their graves. the rosy tint on your cheeks, now from the crisp morning air is all that i remember when the car pulls out. arriving so far from where you are is a change not worth going through.
-little boy emo [not finished]
desperate attempts to find my way home through the rain lead into thoughts of that boy all alone. the boy that i left sitting quietly on the bed, cross-legged and sighing. the sunlight hits my back as the dark clouds part. my hair and my feelings are drenched with guilt and i continue to walk down the dirt ridden sidewalk with beer bottles to the side. little boy emo lives in his shell, determined to depress, and unwilling to leave. everyone feels, but he shows it to the world he has never really seen that they destroy him. two messages left on the machine when i enter the house. the wrenching pain in my stomach gathers strength after i hit play, is it all because i left? is it all because of those days together, now gone? the voice on the other line cracks like a few years back when that boy couldn't handle the stress he was going through. it's not supposed to happen to people i know, only in movies and statistics. but now that little boy emo has become one of both.
-last night's happenings
black absorbs the sunlight like you absorb thought. the midnight tar in the road is hot under the sole of your show as you lightly walk down the street. boiling over are the emotions you've felt in past lives, that no one remembers. tread on them, but ever so slightly so that the memory stays intact. don't erase everything that was there, but don't keep living out the past. the stench of alcohol stays on your lips from the night before.
alright, before you jump to conclusions about these writings, i don't really know why i write about what i write, and most of it is cliche emo, but i don't give a shit. big smile.