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TriPPing_on_TBS
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Name: Irish
Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: Utica
Birthday: 12/5/1990
Gender: Female
Interests: Music.
Musicians.
Acoustic Guitar [delilah].
Poetry.
Writing.
Art.
Photography<3.
Hanging Out.
Sleeping.
Red bull.
Expertise: I'm expertise in the photography dept.
yeaaaaaaaahhhh nigga.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  HURRICANEfeckme
Member Since:
12/25/2004
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I'm fucking sick of everyone,
everything and every one of my surrondings.
everything is like a routine everyday.
same thing over and over.
its like we're programmed to fucking suck at life.
its dreary dull and uneventful.
friends arent friends.
love isnt love.
trust is a whole other thing.
and wishing is the thing of the past.
its almost as if we've all given up hope,
and surrendered to our captors.
nothing is real anymore.
fights are worth fighting.
nothings worth fighting for.
excitement doesnt even exist,
neither does happiness.
everytime i look out the window,
the skies are grey,
overflowed with gloom.
memories flush back for a millisecond,
flash away in another.
you can almost feel the joy of those memorys,
take hold of your body,
just as your about to feel better,
there taken away,
and your left wondering what happened.
so basically everyday i sit and wonder what the fuck happened to what we call fun, and friendships, love, trust, and then i realize,
none of it ever existed. | | |
| inside out.
i'm going to lay it out straight for you.
spill my insides,
gut myself.
tell the deepest darkest secrets,
no ones ever heard.
explain feelings i dont even understand.
by the end of the night,
you'll wish you never asked.
by the end of the night,
you'll realize the time has passed.
can't say i was the one to try & impress.
manners lacking,
mixed signals,
leading people to guess.
i'm frightened of heartbreak.
yet i'm lonely without it.
i'm screwed up in so many ways,
theres no way to even count 'em.
i'm walking through memory lane,
and all feels missed.
but when its over,
is it really over?
do we all just cease to exist? | | |
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Not my work.
Bony Hips.
Nicotene stained fingertips.
mutlicoloured hair.
that shirt she used to wear.
Big eyes.
the times you cried.
all the times you lied.
late night phone calls.
we're just Misled Youth.
searching for the truth.
swimming to the moon.
climbinb the tide.
where the heartache sleeps to hide. | | |
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i know that i've ruined you.
the truth seeps out,
crawling out of cracks,
and tearing through your walls.
everything brings back too many,
too many memories.
they push you down,
break you apart.
they make me feel worthless.
and that town is haunted,
haunted with too many ghosts.
the sunrises not so beautiful,
the stars not as meaningful as they used to be.
and i speak outloud,
scream to myself.
yet no one can hear me.
and we'll steal glances,
but never actually make contact.
for i am the criminal,
and you,
the victim.
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| stop,
put yourself on hault.
press on the breaks with all your might.
you can't do this again.
not another one.
he couldn't take it.
have you seen what you've caused him.
the distinct pain,
the shame.
he'll never be the same.
and its all because of you.
so its time for you to hurt.
its my turn to sit in the corner.
count the days,
spinning in endless spiderwebs
his hopes weren't meant for this.
and i wasnt meant for love.
love never wanted me.
i wont tell a soul.
in fear that i might once again,
fail to the occasion.
just shut it.
keep your mouth closed.
no trips around the block.
no letters to burn.
no pictures to break their frames.
i wont do this to him.
i'll make that promise to myself,
share it with the sunrise,
and tell it to the stars.
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