i need new material.
the rain brings out the best in me
driving on desolate streets and im the only light
makes me feel lonesome in a world so big.
im jealous of the way your face always held the light
no radience just enough to be percieved as mysterious
i think about you sometimes when im not hiding my thoughts
at night in the dead silence
when i know no one one could ever be listening
i wonder where you are, and if you ever think of me
i hated the way you were always famous
to someone or another
i hated those ways that your hair always fell to the side
and how it was never the same color twice
i hated how your smile took over everything
i hated how your fingers would float to create music
the way i never could
i hated the way i never fully understood you
i hated that i never understood why you went to her
when i knew the way you felt for me was stronger
i hated the way, it was in every single way that i loved you
shh. this is between me and the world now.
hm. why can't i write like you.
I tend to be like:
I think its awkward when:
I get lonely when:
I am obsessed with: