xxjosi

there was a pause, then an "ok." "i love how you always say 'ok' to try and avoid saying something else." he pointed out his problem with me, yet still very vague with his reasoning. everything he said to me felt like a needle- one at a time, going through my skin, injecting regret into my veins. i felt hopeless. this isn't what i wanted. i had nothing left to say to him but "ok."

i waste my nights wishing you would change. wishing you would want me. wishing you would realize how much i care. i wake up after three hours of sleep. i can't even open my own eyes- how can i expect to open yours?

one in the morning and she's awake again.  music is pounding through her veins.  she listened to one too many sad songs tonight.  it's not like laying down is going to help her to fall asleep so she gets up and takes everything one move at a time.  she matches her footsteps to the beat of the dripping faucet.  everything is so routine and pre-planned and she knows that with each boy will come a heartbreak, so she stays awake and builds up for her breakdown.  she knows that she has no luck and that the other girls always have those things she lacks and nothing ever goes her way.  she knows that she's writing in run-on sentences and that nothin

breathing in the stale air of a new york apartment was nothing more than unappetizing. leaving there was one of the best feelings i could've ever imagined. the way home had sparked so many feelings, so many emotions. my headphones were in, and every note i heard vibrated through my tired body and kept me alive that night. lyrics from something corporate and dashboard confessional sent shivers down my spine, as i heard myself saying, "i know what they mean." thoughts of boys and memories and days that turned into months made me feel hopeless. phrases like, "what went wrong?" and, "why aren't we talking?" kept coming up.