august 2 2005 (pete wentz)

"raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens" and you

throw me out, i'm just old news from yesterdays trash. i've been living out the kind of life you find in the obituaries section. i used to fall asleep to the sound of dialtone, calling just to get an answer(ing machine), now i fall asleep to the sound of your breathing, waking up and not having any questions. but oh god, the shit i've put you through. the fucked up thinking where you only have what you can (ab)use. the kind of things most people leave behind i save. i think i'm making progress but maybe i'm kicking bad habits like rocks at rubber walls. i can't explain my behavior, only excuse it. lately these moodswings have been under your control more than mine. the day(dreams) still makes things hazy but i've been doing better at night(mares). we wear frowns on our lips like stories, there's scars on our shoulders from too many burdons. i've been/still am so confused. i don't want to keep making mistakes instead of memories. i don't want trying and dying to mean the same thing anymore. i'm just a sucker without a handle. get a grip. i'm sorry my life is a mess but not sorry you're the one cleaning it up. check your arm, i wrote 'i love you' in permenent marker on it before i left the bus. funny how your watch and my watch are like compasses that always lead us home to each other. never let us down. we bring the scene. we're wearing sealed lips to say things how we want to. we're closing our eyes to see things how we want to. i just want the world to understand what we have and at the same time i want to keep it for just us. maybe the world could start with understanding me, but i'm still trying to understand it too.

xxoo peter