Tuesday, June 23, 2009

You'll never win the game if you don't know where to hide.

I've stopped looking for you. The sad part is, I know exactly where to find you.

Predictability is a turn-off.

Afraid of people, afraid of spaces.

I stopped breathing and you liked it better that way.

The next time I catch your attention, it will be the death of me.

I hope you like it.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

And the world wouldn't have been blurry if not for the tears.

I watched her that night, as she forced the alcohol inside her system. Nobody stopped her. She wanted to be wild. She wanted the attention. She wanted to have fun.

Instead, she sat in a corner and sulked and cried all night. The night before, she had cried in bed until sunrise.

They say the alcohol numbs the pain.

No. The pain numbs the alcohol.

You're only good at selling out. And then getting lost.

You can keep telling yourself not to be scared, but that won't stop the bats from surprising you.
You can keep telling yourself not to fall in love, but that won't stop him from kissing you.
You can keep telling yourself that the past is over, but that won't stop the past from creeping up to you.

You never really were good with sales talk, anyway.