the static in my ears is the heartbeat of the broken tune being sung in my head.
i see a little girl so helplessly alone.
Pink Floid and stale wine play with her senses.
she knows the caress of college boys and laughs at oddly shaped wine glasses.
her heart beats like a knife, cutting strings.
this razor blade knows the calming effect of erasing pain.
her life pauses where pain and reality meld into one perfect pastime.
the words on her arm cover the words on her skin.
etched, torn, and faded.
some need love.
shes got it.
falling never felt so right to her before.
shallow words and shallow concerns hardly touch her.
this is our story.
this life riptide has separated us.
the strains of this music fill my senses,
crowding out thoughts.
the rumbling coffee machine fades to a dull roar.
my world slips back into reality.
these cold shivers remind me if humanity.
raw and unforgiving.
what is a smile, unless joy accompanies it?
i feel like a liar, teasing everyone with the turned up edges of my mouth.
this torn envelope mocks me, displaying the unconventional turn of my thoughts.
the feel of written paper seeps into my fingertips.
pleasing to the senses.
the worn and tattered edges of my paper reminds me of my thoughts; never quite
complete or logical.
i bite the inside of my lip just to feel the pain of not speaking these words.

i hardly feel safe with myself. "you're fine there."-how right he is.
fine, fine.
cold fingers feel warm.
frail words, in the end, really mean nothing.