Pete Wentz July 21, 2005

July 21, 2005

lately i’ve been into believing fictional stories like the ones about me and you being happy. they’ve gotta be science fiction because how else can you have a monster fall in love with a boy with no heart? actually i’m pretty sure you have a heart, but i’m just as certain it’ll never be mine. i can tell you’re willing to be loved somewhere on the inside but that doesn’t do me any good when i’m still seeing things through thick curtains over windows and padlocked doors on the outside. bitter regrets, predictable forfeits. we lit a fire that was nothing but smoke and hot air. ashes. my hands are empty and you hold all the cards, kind of funny how you don’t even want them/me. the final nail in my coffin stabbed me in the heart - from my back. you once made my heart skip a beat, now you make it want to skip this. you’ve got salty mails ripping my wounds open that you’re telling me to let heal. Love is a mirage, you only think it’s there for so long..til you either wise up or die of hydration. love is the way to blow your brains out minus the gun, i swear. it’s the stupidest form of suicide cause you don’t die. and whatever doesn’t kill you only laughs at you for coming close enough to. sorry, it’s just the bitterness talking. ignore it/me. i’m just loose words hanging on the ends of your lips, even looser when i’m anywhere near your hips. poetry written from blistered fingertips and sleep deprived eyes that was better before the ink dried. He said, “I should have stayed with her,” and I should have stayed away. held together by paperclips and lies, a part of me is still trying to pretend i was (mis)hearing things but even the voices in my head aren’t that mean to me. and them “i’m sorry,” too late, i’m a better (re)actor than the one you’re being to convince me. i’m just convinced that telemarketers are the only people with more hang ups than me. you called this before you knew the number, and hung up before you got a response. tell me any of this will get me somewhere worth being without being left behind. i tried, i gave it/you my all, but all i can do is give up. i don’t tell you my insecurities so you can use them against me, but help me get over them. instead you said and did the worst thing you could do. worse than cheating to me, i hope you know. but whatever i don’t even know, i guess sometimes it takes losing what you had to see what you didn’t.

Sooo yeah, this is where I actually admit I’m tired, and I go to bed. sweet. goodnight.