Last night's love affair is looking vulnerable in my bed. I want to wipe out all the sad ideas that come to me when I am holding you. I want to erase every nasty thought that bugs me every day of every week. We’ve got obsessions, you never tell me what it is that makes you strong, and what it is that makes you weak.

the one thing holding me together
broke every promise ever made.

what's stopping me from shattering into a million tiny pieces?

who will hold me together, now?

I read all the transcripts from when we first started dating.
Everything I feared has happened.


What now?

I want my other half back, too.

I wish I had beautiful photos of myself to one day show my children.
I wish I was one of the beautiful people.

Looking out the door I see the rain, fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in the wake of sad relations, as their shoes fill up with water.
And maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind, so you never know.

Broken down and hungry for your love, with no way to feed it.
Where are you tonight, child you know how much I need it.
Too young to hold on, and too old to just break free and run.

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun.
And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake, to find that really, he has no one.

So I'll wait for you, and I'll burn.
Will I ever see your sweet return?
Oh, will I ever learn?

Oh, lover. You should've come over.
'Cause it's not too late.

Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in.
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
My body yearns and turns for a sleep that won't ever come.

It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when I sleep so soft against her.
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter.
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever.

Well maybe I'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong.
Oh, lover. You should've come over,
'Cause it's not too late.

Well I feel too young to hold on,
And I'm much too old to break free and run.
Too deaf, dumb and blind to see the damage I've done.
Sweet love, you should've come over
Oh, love, well I'm waiting for you.

Lover, you should've come over, 'cause it's not too late.

My hair smells of you.

Thank God.

you'd rather spend your nights alone. i think i'm alone, too. i think that you maybe don't love me. this isn't something we can let go.

I'm in love with the things that make me think of you.
Waking up without feeling alone.
Running through sprinklers on days much too hot,
The crackle of fire on days far too cold.
Walking back home feeling better, not worse.
Seeing G-rated movies,
in all three dimensions.
Having your hand to hold in strange company.
Knowing you're mine, with no looking back.
The freckles on my shoulders,
you kissed me better when the sun burnt my skin.
Days gone by, immortalised in analogue snapshots.
"In A Relationship with Chris Milne"
Clicking your name and seeing mine, too.
Pinkie promises.
Being terrible at every video game,
except Mario Kart 64.
Summer. Winter. Autumn. Spring.
Matching T-Shirts.
Missing you within seconds.
Hoping if you read this, you'll come home sooner than later.
Thinking of you when I should be washing up.
Missin' your kissin'.

Come home. Come home. Come home.

I walk around the streets like they're a song.
I put one foot in front of the other
crunch
crunch
crunch
It's been raining as long as I can remember
but the leaves are still so rough.
I tap my cigarette.
The red hot ash fizzles out on the sidewalk
beneath a dripping branch.
My legs extend to an imaginary beat
Sweet, slow and sorrowful,
a tune I know only as
betrayal.
I knew myself so long ago.
I knew myself and I knew you too.

What now to carry us through?

Someone lent me a burnt copy of my life last night. It was pretty fucking good.
You know, for bootleg and all.

So many things about you.
I could always remember, and
never forget.
Your perfect lips
smiling eyes
warm skin
could never excuse your
beating
heart.
Steady as a drum,
my insecurities caught the light
of the gleam in your eyes.
Are you mine?
Messages never relayed from
my burning ears
to my darkened mind.

Watching you fade away
from the happiness I knew
kills me.
How long will it be
before you see what I am?
before you know how lucky I am?
before you get sick of the bullshit?
No one
dreams of you like
I do.

Don't wake me up.

Mornings are the hardest.
I know it's true, but
fuck.
I keep falling back asleep to pass the time..
When I wake up
it's only been an hour
and I only miss you more.
You're plenty charming,
baby.
I could sleep all day..
I'd only dream of you.
I've thought about leaving here
crawling to where you are -
it would take me days
but I'd do it if I had to.
I cling onto every thing you say
Every thing you write
Every thing you love.
I grasp the likeness of you
in hopes that you'll come back sooner.
It's a shame
that you never do.

I've always loved the idea
of cold summers, and colder
winters.
I'm constantly drawn in to the
chaos of monotony,
days and days of aching
similarites.
I become mesmerised so easily
when I hear the voices different from my own
and think about you beside me
enjoying it as much as I do.
Oh baby, London calls.
With every inch of my body,
I long for the thrills and chills and spills of
the bustling city.
Nothing pleases me more,
except you,
and warm nights in your arms.

Imagine how much warmer it will seem
when the rest of our world is
four degrees.

Is there a cure for this pain?
Maybe I
I should have something to eat.
Food won't take this emptiness away,
I'm hungry for you
my love.

Well, I made it through another day
in my cold room
on scraps and pieces
left behind.
I survive on the memory of
you.

Is there a remedy for waiting
for loves victorious return?
Is there a remedy for hating
every second that I'm
without you.

All of me is all for you
You're all I see.
You're all I need.

When I think of you,
I feel pathetic.
I want to talk to you.
I don't want to be mean.
I don't want to tell you
how terrific it is to have what you
want.
I don't want to make things harder
And God, I know it will.
But I think of you

a lot.

You no longer make me insecure.
I don't feel threatened,
I'm not paranoid every time
your name pops up.
And so, I search for you.
I wonder,
If I made the moves..
Would you be there, and could I
count on you not to take it out
on him?

This is my apology.
For not waiting,
for not caring,
for not being fair to you.

I have been you.
And while we may have different ways
of dealing,
I know what it's like.


If you read this,
I'm just too sorry.

Am I amazing
Or just amazing in comparison?

The things that used to complete me now terrify me. Products of bliss are now things of nightmares. A flower, a flame, an electric fan. Images behind my eyes are a scattered sea of paranoia. My skin itches until I scratch it, and then I cannot stop. I look down, and my neck is red and raw.
I lower the doses of the things I need, up the load of the ones I want. A temporary distraction, an increasing frenzy of an imaginary psychosis.
Water gets replaced by an eternal thirst. Indie rock replaced by silent screams. Dark circles cloud around my eyes, my jaw cracks, my ears ring. These are all I hear.
Each of my bones snap, one by one. Like a cymbal, thunder crashing all around me -- crack, crack, crack. I twist, contort, writh in pain and no one helps. No one knows. The image in the mirror is strange and sad, I feel sick at the sight of the monster I have become.
But it wasn't always like this. My fever cooled, my eyes relaxed.. I was calm. The lights were shining bright down upon me, and I was in the dark. I lay naked among strangers, riddled with imperfections, and still I was not phased. I was so comfortable in my own skin. I was euphoric and ecstatic, nothing brought me down.
I soaked sugar cubes in something sweet, bought a one-way ticket to a foreign place. Every trip was different, but always smooth as silk.
Like a moth to the flame, the city lights drew me closer and closer. Radiohead played 11 hours on repeat, and we all drove south from there.

Nicotine nights served insomnia well, but now sleep is all that saves me from myself.


It's harder than a teenage erection to find peace in the middle of my nights. So many shitty thoughts rushing through my mind.

Oh God, how I miss those nights.
Phone calls for hours filled with
"Do you remember?"
and "I can't believe you did that.."
We dragged the same old thing out
again and again
just to feel closer,
to make up for the distance between us.
When did we get so far ahead of
ourselves?
What made us miss each other way too much
but become too busy for a simple
Hello?