loveb0nes

What happens when all of the patterns have been used?
How can you create a new pattern when you have nothing left?
The only thing you can produce, are things from old patterns, because..
THERE IS NOTHING NEW.

I saw this coming.
I remember the day I begged you to get it out of your system, and just go.
You refused, and over the years your mind is finally made up.
It makes me wonder how long this is going to last because the stars say this will work out.
I wish you luck.. but don't forget it's just high school. We were dumb, but developed.

I'm going to start a countdown, for the day I turn 18.
Note to self, I took my piercing out for good about three weeks ago, and it still hasn't closed up!
I want a tattoo now.. ""

MY HOPES ARE UP.
MY HOPES ARE UP.
MY HOPES ARE UP.
Please don't come crashing down.

Describing the feeling music gives me is going to be a bit tricky,
because I don't want to tell about this unless it's exact and in specific details. 
It doesn't matter who's reading this, or why I'm writing about it, all I am
wondering is if there is another human being that can feel this 'way' about
music or anything else in their life so passionately about something.
Most would probably disagree that music shouldn't mean this much, I would
argue for hours about music because I am so in love with it.

As I am typing, thinking, and listening to the leak of my favorite band's new album 
that isn't supposed to come out until September 22, I'm feeling something supernaturally intensified.
If that makes sense, continue. It's like when you see  a pure crystal glass vase  sitting on a counter, and
this fat dike bitch opera singer is practicing before the show, and of course the glass spontaneously
combusts because she is a beast. I constantly feel that explosion running to each part of my body through my
veins. To top it all off my fingers and legs feel numb, and I don't know what to do. Music overtakes my whole body.
My mind, my skin, my eyes, my feeling, my stomach, my heart, my blood, and so much more are all in tune
with the beat, the strum of the guitar, the voices, the drums. Everything is being absorbed into my body all at once as if I need this music to  breathe. Maybe this all sounds like bullshit, and I can't explain. But fuck, I need someone to relate.

My alter ego met it's match.
Things aren't falling apart, they aren't coming together.
My eyelids are heavy, and I'm unsatisfied.
I've lost people whom were important to me.
My feelings don't know how to respond.
They're dirty dishes in the sink, a dirty soul that needs cleaning, and paintings that need to be finished by tonight.
Gaining and losing brain cells should have a equal amount.
I'm biting my tongue.

I never get what I want, so automatically I assume it's me that's not good enough.

 I told you I missed you.
You don't care.
You didn't come to save me like always.
Your inside of that different person somewhere.
Come back to me..

Shelby.
Bailie.
Kayla.
Rebecca.
Erin.
Trisha.
Mark.
Pedro.
Bailie.
Eric.
Niko.
John.
Josh.
Levi.
Courtney.
Morgan.
Eric.

Is the list of all the people I chilled with yesterday.
Isn't that a lot of people for one day?

Today I realized a lot of things.
I am really no one.
I am a selfish bitch, and I take everything I have for granted.
I dwell so much on the past because it's not in my future now.
I fucked up so many relationships, that could have been beautiful.
I need composure.

Where are you?
You could fix me.
My head hurts.
My cheeks burn.
I want you to hug me.
I miss you so fucking much.

Why aren't you back, yet?

 

It's 3:47 AM, and I'm sitting here crying.
I've watched every single video I have of us, just to hear your voice.
From driving around screaming our lungs off, to our dance solos, to starbucks adventures, to bus rides, and etc.
You don't know that I miss you this much.
I pushed you away, to see if you would come back.
But you never came back..You seemed to not care.
You moved on.
Your gone.

Does anyone give a fuck about what I want?
When someone finally does, I don't want them to give a fuck.

You lost your head.                                                                       
Where did you go?
You lost your connection.                                                               
Where did it go?
You lost your your best friend.                                                       
What happened to you two?
You lost your interest.                                                                      
What happend to it just being a number?
You lost your heart.                                                                          
Why doesn't it hurt when you see?
You lost your feeling.                                                                       
Why wasn't it real?
You lost your being.                                                                         
Why are you that way?
You lost unfortunately.                                                                     
Why did this happen to you?
You lost your way with words.                                                        
Why was she better?
You lost your chance.                                                                      
Why didn't you think?
You lost yourself.                                                                              
Why did you let it get this far?
You lost me.                                                                                       
Why aren't I good enough?

It's not a story. It's not just words.
It used to be nothing, never heard of.
Nothing is always something.
But where did the nothing disappear to?
In reality nothing can physically disappear, but
Speaking metaphorically.. it was gone.
Did someone steal it? Was it put on hold?
Did it decide it wasn't real?
Who decides what is real, and what's not real?

" What defines a best friend? What are the requirements to be a good best friend? How many hours a week does it entail? Stupid questions that have no answers. A best friend is not defined by how many times they talk on the phone, or how many hours they hang out together. It is not defined by how many sleepovers they gossip at, or how many inside jokes they have. There are no requirements or laws that state that a good best friend must hang out with them every weekend, or tell each other every little detail. A best friend is a matter of opinion. It is the person who has been there for you through everything, not just through the fun things, or the little things. It is the person that you call when you are at your absolute worst, it is the person who saves you when you didn’t even notice that you needed saving, mostly it is the person who accepts you for who you are, and the person that you are becoming. "

 

You didn't notice, I needed saving.
Why the fuck don't you care?


Thanks for the quote:

kissthegirl____