The color of rebellion.

I have been thinking. I know, wow right?





We all go throughout life attempting to simply survive, possibly succeed. However, underneath it all, we're all looking for someone...something that can truly make us happy. I don't care who you are. I don't care if your the old nun at the old church on the corner or the hooker across the street. Everyone wants something that can truly make their life complete. Now, there are some people who instead of actually searching for that one thing decide that maybe having a lot of artificial happiness can compensate. We see this a lot in hollywood. People will settle with one thing because it is attractive and in a week they've moved on to the next little toy.





However, this is not how life should be.





Deep down, we all know what we want. Maybe it's someone who cooks you breakfasat after a crappy night. Maybe it's someone who gives it up on the first date (although i'm not too sure that's love..). Maybe your love is just someone who will put up with your wild obsessions with Australia. Who knows. All we can know is that we all have some quality that holds us bound and forces us to love every bit of it.

The Color Of Rebellion.

My love is the color of rebellion.
It smells of violence
It is the flavor of rocking out,
Feels like a minority
And carries a hellacious tune.
Like water, uncapable of capture
And free to breathe
If you can't love my water
Than find your source of glue.

One of us has to think, and it won't be me.

Time goes by
But you still stand there.
I can't keep taking you farther into my future.

You step forward, like you always do
Holding out your hand i've taken so many other times
And fall, once again, into you.

Have you changed
or am I consecutively wasting time
It feels so damn good to have
something that's never real
Keeping you here is killing me
Don't leave, I might not make it
Your the pill I can't stop taking
But it's slowly killing me.

I feel your lips on mine, once again
I feel life getting harder
And harder still.

I keep thinking I can say no
To you and your addictions.
But saying no to you will never be easy.

Have you changed
or am I consecutively wasting time
It feels so damn good to have
something that's never real
Keeping you here is killing me
Don't leave, I might not make it
Your the pill I can't stop taking
But it's slowly killing me.

I wish you'd just say no to me
So I can continue to never listen to myself.
Please, go.

Have you changed
or am I consecutively wasting time
It feels so damn good to have
something that's never real
Keeping you here is killing me
Don't leave, I might not make it
Your the pill I can't stop taking
But it's slowly killing me.

DISCLAIMER

Just a small disclaimer...

My titles for poetry and such are...not quite normal. So just so you know. Usually they've got some personal meaning, so...yeah. Thanks everyone. <33

You're no superman, you're Pete Wentz's BITCH.

You have the most beautiful eyes,
They're my bad addiction, i'm watching scared.

Your smile is contagous
but I refuse to catch that disease tonight.

You've become my everything
Because I poisoned my world and your all that stands.

You are my insect
Biting your way through my skin
Rotting, decaying
Feeding on what you created

And your all i've got
I've got so much better
than the shit you give to me
And I feel so lost
Lost inside myself
And my heart has breathed it's last today
Your all I
Your not what I need

The worlds you say are law
And the lies you breathe disgust

My body craves you
Your disgusting; keep your distance

My heart pounds, butterflies
that fall at the sight of you
---
Baby I feel so desperatly close to you
But you can't see this knife
----

Kissing the moon

Holding on to the night
While the darkness is silent
and there is no clasping shadows
To hold you bound.

A far off wolf howls, pain in his heart
And in turn, the night agrees
Regret that falls short of catastrophe
Swells inside a weeping abyss.

Hold on to the quiet times
When no one holds your soul
Breathe easy with the shadows
And worry not for those who fall.

Someone be real.

Life.

A brigade of brightly colored confusion.

Such a rainbow of pointless catastrophes. 

Single-minded waltzes of insanity

Drifting leaves, burnt skin, a flower blooms. 

Every day passes unobtrusively by, never to be seen again.