After all this time,
all the pain and all the mistakes I’ve made,
I still don’t know.
I don’t know if the good outweighs the bad.
If generous acts can make up somehow for horrible words.
If the love in us is greater than the hate…
Will everything I’ve done ever mean enough to be forgiven for everything I didn’t?
And if isn’t, if it doesn’t,
Does that mean that there will never be a day when I can look at you,
And not remember all of it,
When I can just remember the good things,
No matter how few?
After how much time
How much pain
How many mistakes
Can I know.
I haven’t posted in a while, life has been taking many twists and turns lately and I’m trying to keep up; I haven’t had much time for the rest. But I also have to keep sane somehow and writing is the best way I know how so I am back. Thanks for those of you who read these ramblings of mine. It means the world.
Sometimes I feel like I’m from Asteroid B-612. And I just want to go home…
Its distracting, how much I love you.
Write about me someday.
About the way I walked in crooked lines and the trouble it always managed to lead me into.
Put down in ink my annoying little smirk that I made so I could seem so tough,
When it was really just a broken smile putting up a damn good front.
Tell about our matching scars,
And the stories that they’re made from;
our childish, fun, brave adventures when it was us VS. the world,
And the world was no match.
Remember to jot down every dimple,
Every favorite song,
And faded jeans worn all summer long.
Don’t forget to scribble in the rainy days we loved so much
And write in every dream we ever had together to light a fire in you.
Please don’t hesitate to type in the laughter that echoes into the bruises and shouts;
The pain that drips onto heavy shoulders and clouded eyes
Because its all apart of it, too.
Its all apart of how much I love you.
Write about me someday:
I only ever write about you.