I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.
When I’m hurt, I shut down. I turn into a total sarcastic bitch. I shut off my emotions, and act indifferent towards everything even though it might be killing me inside.
I remember crying over you and I don’t mean a couple of tears and I’m blue. I’m talking about collapsing and screaming at the moon.
I want someone to really want me. Make a big deal about me, tell me I’m on your mind way too fucking much but you kinda like it. Make it completely obvious that I’m the person you want. Tell me you can’t wait to see me; show me how you feel so I can feel it too.
Make me feel something I’ve never felt before. Tell your friends about me & I’ll tell them about how you make butterflies swam my stomach. Want me as much as I want you.
Don’t you just hate nights like that, when you think over every mistake you’ve made, every hurt you’ve received, every bit of meanness you’ve dealt out? There’s no profit in it, no point to it, and you need sleep.
There’s a difference between somebody who wants you and somebody who would do anything to keep you.
i’m jealous of
and of your sheets
i want to hear
the sound of
You’re told that you’re in your head too much, a phrase that’s often deployed against the quiet and cerebral. Or maybe there’s another word for such people: thinkers.