Dead to You

Because if you don't have at least one person believing in you, then there's not much reason to give a shit about anything.

Maybe you don't have to remember something for it to be true. For it to exist.

Feels like I'm in a play and I don't know all my lines.

I just hope God doesn't get all the credit for bringing me home, because I sure hitchhiked a hell of a long ways and walked my frozen feet off to get here.

It's hard to watch. Can't stand the pressure of that much hope.

It's like a cat bell, so pretty yet alarming, because i know I'm letting myself fall when maybe I should fly away. But the loneliness inside, it's so fucking painful. It's that longing feeling that scratches to escape and makes you want to blurt out all kinds of gushy crap just to get the girl to look at you...I hate it. Love its melty-ness and hate its leash around my neck.