there is blood on my teeth from the tearing apart of ideas with my misshapen words
conversation is not as pristine as it is made to be with these perfectly shaped letters on this screen
i promise never to do it again
and i do
they know it's coming
the uneasiness falling after the sounds that just wont harmonize

i cant read music.

i want to take the beautiful pieces and write them on my heart so i wont forget, in the times when there are ashes on the ground after youve left. there is a perfection in a few silent moments that will not be matched by whatever words i try to voice. my throat is straining and all that i say comes out in a whisper that you couldnt decipher.

the time for letters and numbers is slowly fading into a background of noise and motion.

i find it strange that...

i often feel more connected to words that belong to others instead of the words that i own.

i desire [expect] things from people that i often dont do myself.

the past shows up in so many insuppressible ways. there are songs i dont ever forget. people dont ever really disappear. there are parts of me that i think ive left behind, but, really, theyve just taken shape and been formed into new pieces. i hope that they are a better fit.

fear is underneath so many things, if you look carefully.

it is so simple to make promises.

change always seems just around the corner.