Crank

I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.

Taking no chances means wasting your dreams..

Have you ever had so much to say that your mouth closed up tight struggling to harness the nuclear force coalescing within your words? Have you ever had so many thoughts churning inside you that you didn’t dare let them escape in case they blew you wide open? Have you ever been so angry that you couldn’t look in the mirror for fear of finding the face of evil glaring back at you?

You were a summer gift, one I'll always treasure. You were a dream I never wanted to wake up from. You opened my eyes to things I'll never really see. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me.

Smile. Nod. Say something witty before he finds out what an incredible geek you are.

Girls get screwed. Not that kind of screwed, what I mean is, they're always on the short end of things. The way things work, how guys feel great, but make girls feel cheap for doing exactly what they beg for. The way they get to play you, all the while claiming they love you and making you believe it's true. The way it's okay to gift their heart one day, a backhand the next, to move on to the apricot when the peach blushes and bruises. These things make me believe God's a man after all.

Funny thing, your brain, how it always functions on one level or another. How, even stuck in some sort of subconcious limbo, it works your lungs, your muscle twitches, your heart, in fact, in symphony with your heart, allowing it to feel love. Pain. Jealousy. Guilt. I wonder if it’s the same for people, lost in comas. Is there really such a thing

How could I share the way my heart was breaking when my confessor didn’t believe

you come home, and everyone talks at once and everyone asks questions, but no one waits for the answers.Instead they talk about themselves, what they've been up to, what they're going to do next, as if you're a photo on the wall.And then they talk to one another, forgetting you've jsut flown in, forgetting you're in the backseat, forgetting they've already said it all.

We used to do coke, till "Just Say No" put the stuff out of reach. Now it's crank. Meth. The monster. It's a bitch on the body, but damn do you fly.

The monster likes to talk; he jumps into your head and opens your mouth, making it spout your deepest darkest deceptions. Making you say all the things you'd rather not say, at least not in mixed company." (Ellen Hopkins)

The problem with resolutions is they're only as solid as the person making them.

you fly until you crash two days two nights no sleep, no food, come down off the monster YOU CRASH REAL HARD

empty and closed, hovering in some frozen netherworld neither sun nor rain could thaw.

How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall?

Life was good before I met the monster. After, life was great At least for a little while

Alone, there is only the person inside. I've grown to like her better than the stuck-up husk of me. Alone, there is no perfect daughter, no gifted high school junior, no Kristina Georgia Snow. There is only Bree." (Ellen Hopkins)

We kissed for about the thousandth time, No promises, no demands, Just solid rebuilding of shattered trust.

You're a gift, one I'll always treasure. You're a dream I never want to wake up from. You open my eyes to things I'll never really see. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me. Be safe. Be smart. Stay you.

So you want to know all about me. Who I am. What chance meeting of brush and canvas painted the face you see? What made me despise the girl in the mirror enough to transform her,turn her to into a stranger, only not. So you want to hear the whole story. Why I swerved off the high road, hard left to nowhere, recklessly indifferent to those coughing my dust, picked up speed no limits,no top end, just a high velocity rush to madness.

With you, I am Eve. And you are my beautiful Adam. Let's run away, find our garden, live there together, happy. Naked.

It was body rush After body rush, intensity building. Touch me there.

Red and raw like my brain, unable to shut down, thoughts crashing like electrons orbiting a nucleus of deuling emotions.

Our meeting, touching, accidentally connecting immediately, interwoven hand-in-hand, heart-to-heart.

As I thought about that, I had to wonder: What will we know better about tomorrow? Who cares? Hindsight is useless.

So you want to know all about me, Who I am What chance meeting of brush and canvas painted the face you see? what made me despise the girl in the mirror enough to transform her, turn her into a stranger, only not.

Detailed descriptions, abstract ambitions, relevant observations, your's and mine.

I wanted to meet the monster. Why go down if you can go up?

Your hurt swallows ine, like space swallows time, and the two intertwine. We tangle together.