Things are not the same.

My mind is flooded with an ocean that seems to have no bottom. Coming up for air is necessary, but not as important to me as the dive downward. As I sink deeper and deeper, the darkness frightens me and a second of doubt flickers through my mind. I then find myself, arms outstretched, hands searching for another, swimming frantically as if time is running out. Arms are then around me, and you steal from me all that I am too willingly to give up. I savor the kisses like you savor the oxygen, my breath, that you need so badly to live in a place that you are inescapable of. Then you push me away. Up to life, reality, and a place of forgetfulness. This is a breath of air that the concerned above want me to take for myself, when really, I know for a fact that I only breathe for you. I hardly notice that attempt sunlight is trying to make to distract me, to draw me into supposed security and a place in which I can disregard all that this light misunderstands. I inhale, dive downward, and "jeopardize everything" all over again. I do this all with a smile on my face, however careful to not let any oxygen escape my lungs. It may be a blind travel, but there is enough hope waiting to welcome me at the end of my journey to give me all the willpower needed to keep swimming.

That's not being me.

Is it fair that I am notified or informed that I am accepted by an individual, but I naturally and subconsciously will accept you for whoever it is you are with the first look I take at you or first word I hear of you?

No. It's not at all fair, but I won't change my ways out of spite.
Choke or swallow.

She might have been the death of you, but baby, you killed yourself.

Your imagination has been held captive, it's created something that dances on the tip of your nose ever so gracefully. Unable to keep your eyes off her, you give yourself a headache concentrating so hard. You tell yourself you'll be okay if she goes away, but beyond your self assurance you don't know what you'll do if she disappears.

She travels to your eyes, slow enough to make you shiver, and you close them only because she asks you to. Her soft hands caress your eyelids, her touch reveals her yearn of your blindness. She prances to your ears and whispers lyrics you've never heard before, it seems as if it's a lullaby intended only for you. Her presence washes away all doubt that ever existed. You then realize that your eyes don't need to be sewn shut to experience only her and nothing else, but it makes her happy and you'd be visually ignorant forever if wanted.

She slides down your neck and stops at your lips. Her slow moving torture should have been an easily recognized warning. She parts them with her highly addictive fingertips and slides inside. Before you even have a chance to gasp, move, or open your eyes, she's in your throat and no one is there to save you.

Pathetically enough, yes, I'll still be here.

I'm in a choke hold that does not allow me to stray, even for the slightest second. It's a figment of my imagination, but it exists, all at the same time. As soon as I loosen your fingers, just a little bit, you notice with a start and almost kill me in your panic. I'm against the wall and I know you fear, behind your upright chin and pin straight backbone, that I'll somehow escape. I know you're scared that if you let me wander, I might not come back.

And like the grip you have on my neck, all the hurt you've caused me, I'd be pretty fucking uneasy too.

Sure, write it on your suicide note.

I never want to hear/see someone say "fuck life" in serious context again.

Ponder that statement before you habitually blurt it out.
If you want to kill yourself, then by god, go kill yourself. There's people that want to be here, and if you want to leave, then leave.

Dear God,

I'm so sorry you had to take two for me to believe in you. Find some way for them to visit my dreams and I promise you won't be able to get rid of me.

Carry On - Valencia

I heard your footsteps this morning.
You know it's hard to get by when you don't sleep at all.
I heard your footsteps this morning.
You know it's hard to get by when you don't sleep at all.

I'm just trying to be honest
When I say my body's feeling tired,
And I've got to move on,
But I hope and I pray that your legs
Will somehow find the strength.

And they all carry on.
They want nothing but to be better off,
And I've heard in my rage,
But I found it in my heart to believe.
You are home.

Some nights I have this blurred vision,
Where we dance in a dream to the songs that we love.
Those songs have paid for those lonely souls who where singing along
When it wasn't enough just to hope,
And to pay that there body's some how find the strength.

And they all carry on.
They want nothing but to be better,
And I've heard in my rage,
But I found it in my heart to believe.

I've been waiting for good news.
Since you left, a little piece of my heart
Has been pounding out of my chest.
We're waiting for good news aren't we now?

And they all carry on.
They want nothing but to be better off,
And I've heard in my rage,
But I found it in my heart to believe.
You are home.
I've been waiting for good news.
Since you left, a little piece of my heart
Has been pounding out of my chest.
We're waiting for good news aren't we now?