Two hundred and fifteen miles away, my love stays. While here, I sit and think of nothing but his smile.
Some streets lead to nowhere. Some windows lead to walls. Some stories lead to endings. Some love ends in heartbreak.
Some songs leave you wishing. Some movies lead to upset. Some books lead to wonder. Some sunsets lead so slumber.
Some mornings come with headache. Some friendships lead to fights. Some fights lead to fixing things. While some fights lead to finished.
Some moments lead to memories. Some lead to regret. Some action leads to reaction. Some fire leads to flames.
Some rain leads to rainbows. Some clouds lead to shade. Some swards are double edged, like some people’s face.
But, some stars lead to wishes. Some songs lead to smiles. Some people lead to laughs. Some days, some days end in promise.
I’m really not hipster. I’m really not preppy. I’m really not scene. And, I’m really not theater. I’m really not popular. I’m really not a nerd. I’m really not quite. But, I’m never really heard. I have a lot of friends, but only few that I am close with. I like to party every weekend, but no one ever calls. I have a life, oh I do, don’t worry. I just don’t get wasted, plastered, fucked up, or blacked out, the way you do. I make my own fun, with my few friends and myself. And we’ll find some place to go, just not towards the hype. We don’t need a huge show, or expensive drinks. Just give us a place to chill, with some music and red cups. And we’ll be just fine, even if we fuck up. It’s all part of life, it ebbs and if flows. Just think before you speak, or you’ll end up as just another hoe. So call me what you will, an outcast, a floater. But I’m doing just fine, with my ke$ha and wine.
Icy cold, sweet, fresh. The taste you leave in my mouth gives me chills. Then a long, cold, tall, drink follows, and my mouth is tingling. If only I could feel this way all the time, even as I sleep. It is refreshing to know that you are always out there, when I need a pick me up, or something to awake my sleeping senses. One taste of you, and my eyes are opened. You’re not always the same, but you almost always have the same effect on me. It is a weakness of mine. Everyone wants you. I am jealous enough to do what I have to do, to get you. You are worth every second of it.
Fuck my job. I want to go out, and do shit tomorrow. But, I have to fucking work all day.
I’m usually not this angry, nor do I curse this much.