I couldn’t count the number of times I was there for you.
There’s no way to keep track of the times I put my life aside for you. 
When your father was drinking and pulled out his gun,
said “Son, I’m a dead man” as you bit your tongue.
He struck you out cold and he drove out of sight.
You told me how I became your ‘best friend’ that night.

Best friend, best friend, keep you close to the end.
Sitting on the front porch, it all starts again.
We sit too close together as our hands start to touch.
Before this all happened, it was never too much.
But as we look up at the stars, and you pull yourself away,
I realized that as we grow up, things always seem to change.

Who will I walk with this summer beneath the stars? 
Who else falls asleep next to me as sit up on my car? 
Why is everything changing, it’s happening too fast. 
Why is everything changing, I thought it all would last. 
If you came home to me, I’d welcome you with open arms,
but these arms have grown crooked from waiting so long. 

Best friend, best friend, keep you close to the end.
Sitting alone on the roof, wishing you’d come back.
Miles apart, we haven’t even spoken to each other in weeks.
Before we were ‘best friends’, you couldn’t go a day without a peep.
But as I look up at the stars, and you’re state-lengths away,
I realized that as we grow up, things always seem to change.

Just quit drinking, darling,
Just come on home, back to me.
Put the whiskey down, darling,
Just come on home, back to me.

You still cross my mind from time to time.
And I mostly smile. 
Still so set on finding out where we went wrong and why.
So I retrace our every step with an unsure pen, 
trying to figure out what my head thinks, 
but my head just ain’t what it used to be. 

And then again, what’s the point anyway? 

I remember you ascending all the stairs up to the balcony 
to see if you could see me - hidden quietly away 
And I remember the skin of your fingers, 
The spot three quarters up I’d always touch when I was out of things to say.

You held my hand, but you were too afraid to speak and I could never understand. 
I remember when you leaned in quick to kiss me, and I swear, 
that not a single force on earth could stop the trembling of my hand,

And I remember how you smiled through the smoke 
in a crowded little coffeehouse and laughed at all my jokes. 
And I remember the way that you dressed and, 
how we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat 
And I remember when I knew that you’d be leaving, how I barely kept up breathing 
and I bet if I had to do it all again, I’d feel the same pain, 

And I remember panicked circles in the terminal in tears. 
How I wept to god in fits. I’ve hated airports ever since. 

It must be true what people say, that only time can heal the pain. 
And every single day I feel it fade away, but - 

I still remember how the distance tricked us, 
and lead us helpless by the wrist into a pit to be devoured. 
I still remember how we held so strong to this, 
though we had never really settled on a way out.
I still remember the silence, 
and how we’d always find a way 
to turn and run to our mistakes. 
I still remember how it all came back together just to fall apart again. 

My dear, I hear your voice in mine.
I’ve been alone here, I’ve been afraid, my dear. 
I’ve been at home here. 
You’ve been away for years. 
I’ve been alone.

I breathed your name into the air; I etched your name into me. 
I felt my anger swelling; I swam into its sea. 
I held your name inside my heart, but it got buried in my fear. 
It tore the wiring of my brain; I did my best to keep it clear. 
So, dear, no matter how we part, I hold you sweetly in my head.
And if I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead. 
If I can’t love you as a lover, I will love you as a friend. 
And I will lay a bed before you; keep you safe until the end.

-La Dispute

story of my life.

undeadlikethis:

Bitches on Tumblr don’t know how to use a camera and call themselves a “photographer.”  And “love Jesus Christ” but can’t help hating others.

(Source: glazedize)

I don’t post dreams often, but this one won’t let me go back to sleep:

I’m standing in a dark building, cluttered with remnants of what used to be someone’s belongings. A man stands in front of me, wearing a suit and smiling with perfect teeth. He takes my hand and leads me through the building, admiring every broken object we come across, telling me we can build a new life together from all this mess. I try to speak, but I have no voice. He only smiles and looks at me with his bright blue eyes, stroking my cheek and whispering words I cannot understand. A second man appears in the room.

The man is tattered, gnarled, and has claws on his hands as he reaches out for me. My well-dressed partner is now gone, leaving me to face this man alone. The man grabs my shoulder and tells me that I must leave, this place is broken and cannot be fixed. He says the world is bitter and cruel, but here I will rot away and never learn to grow. It’s then that I realize in the mirror that I am only a child, dressed in a blue gown with ribbons in my hair. The man tries to pull me away, and I scream, trying to mutter words but unable to speak, just useless babbles and cries.

My suited partner appears once again and grabs hold of my arm, spitting vile words at the stranger as he tries to pull me back. I look up at the man I know and watch his appearance change from the handsome man into a large, wretched wolf with empty eyes. The gnarled man moves his hair and I notice his face: he has the face of a lion, golden eyes shining bright as the sun. The wolf sinks his claws into my shoulder and pulls me in front of the mirror once again. This time, I’m a woman with beautiful long hair. He tells me he would offer me the world if I stayed with him forever.

The lion-faced man tells me to run, tells me he’d keep me safe and tells me there’s so much more to live for than a broken home. A third man enters behind him with a lion mask, only revealing grayish-blue eyes beneath it. The wolf pulls me into an embrace and sinks his fangs into my back, telling me I belong with him, telling me I’m beautiful, and telling me no matter what I did, he’d always love me.

I want to run. I want him to stop hurting me.
But I can’t.

The man with the lion mask stands behind me and places his hands on my shoulders and doesn’t say a word. At an instant, the wolf cries out and recoils, then is knocked to the ground by the lion-faced man. I look at the mirror once more. I am myself, not a child, not a woman, but my own reflection, bruised and broken on the floor. The man in the lion mask says nothing, but lifts my broken and bloodied body from the ground and cradles me. Just before I awoke, I spoke for the very first time, “It’s you.”

As of late, the hours seem to grow shorter and shorter with each passing moment.
I try to understand what goes on inside your head,
but dear, your thoughts and feelings are just too much to harbor.

The voiceless sound of the seconds passing on this broken clock reverb in my ear
as the ever-growing clamor of your naive intentions haunts these halls,
oh, how the ghosts seem to crow beneath the walls.

Time and time again, I extend into your storms,
snatching at your hands, swallowing your fears,
but dear, like an unsettled child in the night,
you’re drowning in your tears.

Sinking below the fathomage of time,
is it not enough to be a friend?
Is it too much to just want to love?
I’m here for you ‘til the end.

So here again, in the taciturn dispute between you and your thoughts,
I reside beneath the dirt, nailed inside a box to which you held the hammer.
Forever yours to keep, and forever yours to shroud. 

I don’t think I’ll ever understand why people feel like it’s the end of the world when they’re single for more than 3 days. I also don’t understand why anyone would settle for someone that just tells them they’re attractive, yet lacks the means to provide and fails to meet the needs of the individual. I’m going to be 21 years old this July. that will make it 21 years of never falling in love, 21 years of never being kissed, and 21 years of remaining gold. 

Single? It’s never the end. It’s always a beginning.
Think about what a relationship is meant for. Think about the future. If you are unable to put someone else’s needs before yours at the moment, you should not even have one…not yet.

Until then, I’m treading this path alone, and no one will stall me.
Not anymore.