The fabric that offered comfort, now only offers pain.
With what was so soft, and caressing, now digs deeper...
The empty hole of a heart, tears like a snag in my sweater.

You say:
"I love you, I love you.
I will always love you.
I'm so sorry for hurting you."

Forcing me to scream, liar! liar!
You are a liar.
You are no lover.
You are nothing more than a bad seamstress.

You gave me the sweater on my back.
It has always had a snag in it.
You are running away with the tread.
You have always had the tread in your hand.

Either give me this gift completly, or stop running.
Give me the other end of the thread so I can sew this comfort back together.
Or take this gift back.
I don't want something, If I can't have it completely.
I will never want something if I can't have it completely.
COMPLETE ME YOU FUCKING GIRL.

The rain from the clouds melts, and washes away the snow of the past.

I walked through the rain that is currently falling this afternoon.
It was a lot better than walking through the snow of the past.
Each drop of rain sinks all the way to the bottom.
The drop pierces through the snow piles.
To feed the green underneath it all.
To bring new life.

The snow turns to water, and then resides underground.
Not the same underground that the rain has found.
Not the same underground that brings new life.
The former snow goes underground to find itself as a thirst quencher for cities.

The new life is waiting.
Waiting to poke out.
I will swallow up my memories of the past, these thirst quenchers for cities.
But, only when I'm thirsty.
Only when I'm waiting for that new life to poke out.

I'm laughing at you as you try and grab as many friends as you can. You're pathetic, and a waste of air to share a room with.

I ask myself if my life is flashing before my eyes...But is it really?
I have always felt like I sit, and watch other people live their lives, just waiting to start to live mine.
But am I really?
The record will continue to spin.
The needle is broken.

I started to grow dwarf sunflowers. In the spring, I will start to grow regular sized outside.

He cut off his own arm because he is too fearful of love pulling him down.
He cut off his other arm in the past because he doesn't want to be pulled down.
Now he walks around armless.
Only to find he will feel a her pulling on his legs.
Finding himself cutting those legs of his off in the future.
He will walk around limbless.
He will however have his torso.
The torso oh his torso.
In that torso he will have his heart.
He will always have his heart.
For he can not cut off his heart.
In the end he will want his arms to embrace the feeling his heart is giving off.
In the end he will want his legs to caress the warmth of a comforting body.
In the end he will want to hold you forever.

I am not sure what is to be.
I am not sure what has been.
I am not sure what is now.
I sink in false memories of a life I do not live.
All these images that I should not claim as mine.
But, I find myself everynight living and reliving them.
I am unsure.
I have always been unsure.
I will always be unsure.
Words float by on rafts made from a great doubt tree.
Polluting the water around me.
The water is all around me.
and I believe my boat has a hole in it.