"in which the sun shines and we learn what happened to the whipping boy, the prince, and everyone else"

i'm the itch in your scar, the crash in your car. and every single word you say adds a bullet to my resume (and sometimes my head).
it's odd how words have a choke hold on me.
street songs sing me to sleep
through highways and streetlights.
get me out of this town.
you look good in a moonlight kind of way.
i'm half past goodbyes at the price of giving in and bowing out(and i wish you were here)
i'm a wreck and hope you are too.


love,