Falling, Falling, Falling.

They tell me that you can't catch a memory, not for your life. Yet here are a great deal of memories standing infront of me, personified into a handsome boy I've loved for far too long. How couldn't I catch my dearest memories when they're so close that it is all I can do to fling my arms around them, to never let go.
They tell me that the most agile and strong of us never can keep the memories they catch. not for your death. But here they are, between my clasp, so close that my lips brush against them.
They tell me that the weakest memories will fight and push you away, but I must have chosen a strong one. He held me back and listened to me whisper and cry and poke butterfly kisses on his shoulder.
Screw what those sucks told me, my memories are right here.

And Here Is Where I'll Stay.

Nothing is ever all it cracked up to be. The stony sky makes me cold, thats why I'm holding myself across. The icy wind is lapping at my sensitive eyes, thats why you might see them brimming over. There are so many excuses, because I am so far gone that I don't even want to hurt anymore. I want to walk in the sun, but that's never an option when it's November eighteenth already. I've wasted a while, but learnt a fair lot. I don't want to hear from this stupid boy who I've probably been wrong about this whole time; Of course he knows that he left me heartbroken, and I just kept on. I deleted his number, I erased his face from my mind. I don't even remember his eye colour, I tell my self. Today I'll move on. I'll smile at the fit boy who was flirting with me last week. That's a start.
But I always finish before the start line, because this boy has changed to "In a Relationship" too on Facebook.

You Belong Arm In Arm With Me Baby.

Darling, you don't understand. For everyday I've loved you with all of my heart, there are three when you've left me a raged, tearstricken mess huddling on the linoleum kitchen floor. Darling, I loved you first, but I was what, a countless member of your unattatchment club. I started full of love, all for you, a warm heart that your cold fist froze into delicate spindled glass. The way that the cracks shine when I let the light in is simply beautiful, I have done this once since I last saw you.

See me here, crying on the linoleum kitchen floor? That was you. Darling.

Those Were The Days.

Sitting here, checking your facebook, I can't help feeling like a stalker. I click on the link attached to "In a Relationship with." Its worse that she's absolutely beautiful. Even from her picture I can see her piercing blue eyes that fill mine with tears. It's horrible, how can I get the slightest, guiltiest piece of pleasure out of the situation by calling her a slut, a bitch, a suck, a ho or a whore if she's none of them at all? Not even the tiniest bit. It just makes me all of these words plus so much more. I go press Back, click next to "Write Something..." and type "IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU" and my mouse hovers over "Share." Maybe not today, but one day you will know.