With you.

With you. 

It's different. 

For me.

What I would give for reciprocity.

I mean, I gave you everything.

Pieces of me I didn't even know I had.

Loved you more than I loved myself.

And you knew that.

And you took that.

And you ran.

Far away from me.

Fuck.

Revolution

change will come soon enough,
but let’s not wait forever.
procrastination tempts the Devil
to pull the power lever.
we need a revolution.
expeditiously, a euphemism.
we are the only solution.
stand up and fight or be a nuisance.
freedom is our birth right,
so demand restitution.
they’ll fight to keep us quiet.
withstand their institution.

Resist the urge to give in.
Eventually they’ll see.
Virtually everything we do is ignored, but
Opposers we must be.
Life as we know it will improve.
Unite. Demand equality.
Turn thoughts into actions.
Immediately.
On this day, make a vow to
Never give in.

I Want To Hold Your Hand

Holding hands with someone is the most intimate thing that I have ever experienced in my (almost) 19 years of life. It doesn’t happen often, with me at least. I have kissed more people, hugged more friends, and had more sex than I have held hands. That’s because everyone kisses and hugs. There are no emotions attached to those things. Rarely does sex come with an emotional attachment. It’s just sex. Holding hands is so much more than that. When the lines of your palms come in contact with another person’s, so much changes. Simply interlocking fingers and feeling your pulses pound in sync brings so much peace to the soul. I want to experience the serenity that comes with touching another human being so intimately that all of my fears disappear. I really just want to hold hands until forever, or at least long enough to discover a bit of tranquility from within.

Late nights, climbing flights, running laps through my mind. Trying hard to distinguish what is yours, what is mine. Mind over heart I know, but my heart tells my mind not to let this love go. So I lie here distressed, all this pain in my chest. Almost as if you pulled my heart from behind my left breast. This is killing me softly, like a Lauryn Hill song. I don’t know if I can do this. It feels so wrong.

Drunk texts, no regrets, at least not yet… until the next morning when you realize you meant every word that was said. A drunken mind speaks a sober heart, it’s true. Emotions overflowing all thanks to 80 proof. With every shot you take, you become more sentimental. Bottles of beer expose the thoughts in your mental. Drunken confessions you can never take back don’t account for the sober bravery that you lack.

Here’s to the nights: sober, high, or drunk… and to every single person that we’ve ever loved. Past, present, future. It all ends up being relative. I don’t ask for much, just for all of you to let me live.

I Wish

I wish I believed in infinity. I mean, really. I truly attempt to force myself to believe in forever. I want to be able to look past the things that have happened in my life and say “Maybe some things do last.” I can’t though. My brain prevents it. Logically, infinity makes no sense. I have never seen something last forever. Not one life, one relationship, or one piece of history has lasted for infinity. Not in its original state at least. These things are altered and manipulated in such a way that they are very rarely recognizable at first glance. I just want something that lasts. I want to believe that a relationship can last past a lifetime. I want to see a promise faithfully kept, under all circumstances. I want to see souls grow old. I want to see past my existence on Earth. I want to see where I’m going to be 4 billion years from now. I want to find the beauty in forever.

I Dreamt Of You

I dreamt of you last night, and tears rolled down my face.

I dreamt of everything you said, and how I had been replaced.

I dreamt of lies and promises I so naively believed.

I dreamt of how you randomly decided to leave.

I dreamt of your “I love you” calls when you were rather drunk.

I knew you weren’t telling the truth, but I didn’t give a fuck.

I dreamt of ways you fucked me over and how we were still friends.

Too bad that’s not how that story went, instead it sadly ends.

Sonny's Room