I Don't Consider Myself Particularly Religious.

Everything about you scares me; I guess that's why I'm here.

She cries tears of stars and seas,

desperate to fill infinity.

I thought I knew what I was getting myself into

I thought I could be good for both if us.

I thought the butterflies were anticipation

But now I feel like I'm using you to get over my own insecurities

I'm not good at the whole girlfriend thing

I'm scared to see you as mine

Maybe I just need some practice

Maybe I just need some time

If I mess this up it's not your fault

After all my problems are mine.

The only difference between a monster and a hero is motive

Sometimes the most human thing about someone is their inability to feel like a person.

Everyday I get older and I understand the world a little better. And yet I never have any more control over it. Any more effect on it.

I am only biding my time. Getting older. Understanding more.

Eventually, I'll have to do something about it.

We’ve spent so much time describing people as beautiful things, I think it’s time we try describing things as beautiful people.

Coming down

funny how distance looks different sometimes. When I'm sitting back to the dresser, watching my desk come into focus, much closer than anything's been in weeks.

There's carpet under my feet and the hum of a box fan off to the side. Light looks different, brighter where it plays on the reflective surfaces. Throwing overlapping shadows across the room.

And I'm suddenly aware of my own skin where it stretches over my knuckles. Tingly and colder than the night air.

Someones shifted the focus, dialed it up a little. And suddenly I'm here again.

I'm still the same size as I have always been. it's just the world that's gotten so much smaller than I knew. so small that I can't really see the details anymore. it's all out of focus.

You pluck out old bones from your body like errant thought; dropping them carelessly to the ground.

They crunch and crack under thick black boots; crumbling to dust.

And you sigh as if this change and growth in yourself is tedious and detached as the pruning if a bush.

Cutting away stray branches with the sickening crack of bone.

Brushing them away with the sweep of your hand as if these pieces never came from you; they aren't of use.

And I wish at once to be as numb and strong as you.