Excuse Me?

Half past 2 in the morning and you're horrifically drunk. After pestering me for hours to call you, I do. Then when we're chatting, you tell me you're too busy and you'll call me back. I can hear her in the background and no matter how many times I ask who are you with you won't tell me. I hang up. You don't call me back.

You don't remember this the next day but you do remember being with her and not wanting to tell me because I might jump to conclusions... can you honestly blame me?

After hours of conversations about how I shouldn't hold back from telling you anything, you go and blatantly do the opposite. -10 trust points bro.

Margaret Mitchell -

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken, and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

Jack Penate – Have I Been A Fool

Snowcones And Puppies.

and watching you sing.

It's been a few months now, us, in the running. Not even an official item yet I still imagine the future... sad, isn't it?

But there hasn't been anyone I can be physically comfortable with in so long. As much as I'm out-going and loud and friendly, that doesn't stop me being absurdly self-concious as are most women. So you can understand why I wouldn't like anyone touching my thighs, hips, love handles or tummy. But I let you because you re-assure me that you love my 'squidge' (but it'd help if you didn't reffer to it as that).

It's funny 'cause we've been friends for about 5 months, friends with 'privileges' for a month of so, it's going to come crashing down fairly soon... But I honestly couldn't care less! Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, right? I'd much rather have hundreds of brilliant memories of us and a brief blip of sadness than nothing at all. Who even said this has to be the end? Sure as hell doesn't seem as if you want it to be.

There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.

You quiver like a candle on fire, I'm putting you out. Maybe tonight we could be the last shout. But I'm fascinated by your style, your beauty will last for a while.

You're feeling instead of being. The more that I live on the inside, there's nothing to give. I'm infatuated by your moves. I've got to search hard for your clues.

I want to repair your desire and call it a gift that I stole from just wanting to live. Now I see the vision through your eyes, your innocence no longer fuels surprise.

Trying to outrun your fear, running to lose. Heart on your sleeve and your soul in your shoes. Take a left, a sharp left and another left. Meet me on the corner and we'll start again.

Parting Gift.

I opened my eyes while you were kissing me once, more than once, and you looked as sincere as a dog. Just as sincere as a dog does when it's the food on your lips with which it's in love. I bet you could never tell that I knew you didn't know me that well. It is my fault, you see, you never learned that much from me. Oh you silly stupid pastime of mine. You were always good for a rhyme. And from the first, to the last time, the signs said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted. It ended bad, but I love what we started. It said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted. It ended bad, but I love what we started.