they always return

practice makes perfect
old lovers make old comments
my eyelids are heavy
yet sleep is not kind tonight
dramatic in text
bland in los angeles
how many risks can a girl take
you are the least of my problems
but you make a good story
hangover part 2 is a crime
i have no attraction left in me
im ready to leave the plane
thoughts are good enough for me
actions seem to be the only thing worth a damn
gross
sick of patterns
bla
loss of interest
yuck
forced

they always come back
just a matter of when
or how many times

this week ive had plenty

im the one that got away

grass is greener
but never as green as my eyes

i feel an instant karma of self
writing gives a sense of release
type of vomit
i do not want the advice that i have asked for

im changing my mind all the time
chasing a yesterday
losing today

can not seem to feel
numb
wow
what
oh yeah
i get it
i was angry
now im not
i was sad
now im not
i was in love
now im not
i was blind
now my eyes are only shut

in my labryinth
i will emerge

i will not use spell check
i will not converge

im proud of my brain
and what wonder is me
what ever ill feelings
i give back to thee

building scar tissue
in the place where you once were
my minds eye has made you a shadow
drunk, smelly, mean shadow
somewhat of a blur

i no longer place you higher
you are right where you belong

my heart was big and shiny
looking at you with pureness
you shit on it
does that feel good?

im not looking to have the last word or show you someday
because you already feel it
i have gone away

no one left to look down on
im not there
i take me back