its that consequence on my tongue, "guilty conscience" thing

i woke up this morning to the lonely pillow beside me and said that this town was gonna sleep here tonight
nothing makes my day like knowing youll never be okay
but im not entirely alright
and i cant imagine you wanting it any other way

tonight is nothing more than the way you lost yourself on the wrong side of never. youre hiding behind it again. youre taking pictures for everyone to see the clever way you cover yourself up. fix it with a drug. fix it in your mind and close your eyes tight to keep it from coming out.

"put your hand between an aching head and an aching world. well make them so jealous. well make them hate us."

our computer is back, as well as the ancient keyboard that makes more noise than a jackhammer. i guess surfing the internet and posting my random thoughts here when i cant sleep is out of the question. that means back to using the regular journal, you know the one filled with overlapping poems and bad handwriting from scrawling in the dark. ill try to make them legible enough that i can post them here the next day. "its gotten crazy for the first time in a long time"

my sister coined the phrase "nonsensical poetry" about three seconds ago. i think that says a lot about the way i write when [i am alone in this bed house and head].

never mind the way i dont care what you have say
shove it in your back pocket because we both know how it feels
cant you tell me aything without that disaster relief tone of voice
you cant hide anything love. nothings more than truth or less than you
even with your shirt on, your heart is bare