It's funny how we're both in love with disaster.
Hold hands until they're numb. Trying to get something out of this. Nothing.
nothing.
nothing.
Losing contact with people I never dreamed I would.
And all these words are slipping out of your mouth. Maybe you mean them, maybe not. But it's making me insane trying to figure out the truth. You say it is, but it almost makes you seem like more of a liar.
the moon makes me think of old liars and new truth-ers. It just occured to me that maybe "truther" isn't a word because there's way more liars out there. Now it seems like we're going back to the being in love with a disaster.
People like that must exist, the ones who slow down for the car crash. I've been talked to, people have shown interest in me. People must love disaster.
I sleep in my jeans and old makeup. I never bother looking nice for anyone because whats the point? I always slur my speech even though I never drink. I curl my toes every time I talk to you because an old therapist said it helps hold off anxiety attacks. Every time I see a falling star, I don't make a wish, all I do is say your name, and hope whoever the wish giver is understands. I want truth-ers to exist. I am conivced people are hopeless, but so am I, because I hope all of it can change. I keep the same song on repeat every night. Maybe it's because I hate change. But I'm so neurotic it makes me laugh and cry both, depending on the night. I take two showers a day, brush my teeth three times a day for five minutes. I just hate feeling dirty. Once again, I'm just so damn neurotic. Just like the time I came home, showered for an hour, and brushed my teeth for a good ten minutes. I was hoping to get your scent off my skin, your taste out of my mouth. I don't sleep. I lay awake in bed, once again, being hopeless, hoping for something better, but in all reality I have a wonderful life that I am content with. I guess it's the whole the grass is greener on the other side. And I know this sounds crazy, but sometimes I sneak out to the spot we met and replay everything we've been through. And by doing so, I realize- maybe some one else can fall in love with disaster, but I don't know if I can. As everything I just said proves, I'm enough disaster for both of us.
mmm....
time to go. Before I think of more things wrong with me.
