x newest x older x profile x notes x kelly x poems x diaryland x
"Smoked up" in the back of a van
12:18 a.m. 2004-08-14

I can't stand here and lie to you but i do it every day. And there's no point in pretending but what would anyone gain with the truth. Honestly i can't tell why i can't take this and why does the sound of it make me want to dig something, anything, into the deep places and tear all this out? I'd rather know that you were safe inside a small world that someone special had built for you, but maybe i'll have to do this thing on my own. And don't you have a clue? Can't you see me through these wires across the distance that broke us into so many shining fragments of glass reflecting the images of a death day's parade? Can't you tell i'm crying? Can't you just try to care? And tonight i wish i could take his advice and tonight i long to say "never did" and pretend all of this never did actually happen. Tonight i'll cry these eyes out, eyes blind to everything around me but the insurmountable climb that's on the brink of leaving me tumbling down to this blank chasm of forgetful depression. And maybe tonight i sound just like the ones i'd despised but tonight is an absolute horror. Is it wrong to wish that someone knew what i was in these pale shadows? I want you all to see me like i was the night before, curled up and sobbing, whispering these words over and over, knowing that it wouldn't work. Is it wrong that i want you all to see me like that and hate me and pretend i never existed so i could just disappear?

"i know there is some place i can go where no one knows my name..."

back & forth

words @ jake, layout @ kelly