At Your Funeral

last wednesday, my uncle committed suicide.

i can count the times i met him on one hand, but i had a really hard time at his funeral today.



i didn't know what had happened until after the service. and when i realized it was a suicide everything was different.

i would be lying if i said it didn't bring back suicidal thoughts in my head.

i saw his mother and brother crying, and i felt for them.
the world lost a great man.



the service was in remembrance of the wonderful life he led and to reflect on the good memories.

it made me think that when i die, however and whenever that may be, i can be remembered for the good i did.
the worries that fill my head after that thought are along the lines of 'would anyone really come to my funeral?' or 'would anyone even notice or care if i died?'



Nikki Sixx said that attending a funeral made him feel alive. it made him see how beautiful life is and changed him.

this funeral did the exact opposite for me.

it made me feel even more dead inside. more hopeless.

my uncle was 46 and his death showed me something..

what if it isn't going to get any better?
what if i am going to be this sad forever?
what if i spend the rest of my life wishing i were dead?

How Long?

while you are away
my heart comes undone
slowly unravels
in a ball of yarn
the devil collects it
with a grin
our love
in a ball of yarn

he'll never return it



where is the line that says 'this has gone on long enough?'

how many broken hearts will it take to realize that mine can not be broken anymore?




how many times will i forgive and forget and regret?

how many times will i leave the one i really want for the one who is convenient?



how many times will i lead him on?

how many more friendships will i ruin because i want something more?



how many more mistakes will i make exactly like this one?

how many more hearts will be broken before i decide to do what my heart tells me and not just my mind?

how many times will i hurt myself with this fucking charade?



how many more tears will be shed?

how many more nights will be spent alone wondering what could have been?



how many more times will i second guess my decisions?

how many more lives will i scar?



how many more times will i push you away?

how many more days will i ruin?



how many more moods will be killed by me?

how many more times will i drown myself in nostalgia?

how many more sad songs will i write?

how many more sad songs will i relate too?



how many more years of therapy?

how long until i am happy with who i am with?


not until i am with you.

Life, Interrupted

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
And if I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.



no ranting, no complaining, no philosophy

tonight, i am simply existing.



so i'm a little sadder than usual tonight, oh well.

i can't remember ever feeling so alone on my entire life.
we were so close but things changed.
why doesn't he want to talk to me?
what did i do wrong?



yesterday he was holding me.
i have never felt so safe.
but it almost feels like it isn't worth the pain of my heart ripping when he leaves.
it gets worse every time.



i wonder how my eulogy will sound.
will anyone come to the funeral?
i would call them all hypocrites because they all deserted me in life.
will anyone grant my last wishes?
will anyone care?



i don't want to think this way anymore.
i don't want to hurt anymore.

Susanna: I didn't try to kill myself.
Dr. Potts: What were you trying to do?
Susanna: I was trying to make the shit stop.

-Girl, Interrupted



i don't want to miss you like this.
i want you here.
i want you to die.
i want you to leave him.
i want you to walk out.
i want you to walk back in.

Your Dry Cleaning Won't Be Ready Until Thursday

for the record, i didn't do anything wrong.


i didn't want things to turn out this way.


it is truly amazing how much one tiny decision decision could ruin everything you have ever come to know and love.
was it my fault for asking? is she just overreacting? was he worth all of this in the first place?

he was my best friend before he was your ex-boyfriend. i helped get the two of you together. I LIKED HIM THE WHOLE TIME. i have liked him since the day i met him. i guess you never heard the story of how me and cameron got together in the first place?



you say that a true friends would not have even asked in the first place. well ok, but i did. and you said to go for it. it is not my fault you lied to me. and it is not my fault that you were such a fucking pussy you couldn't even say it to my face. you couldn't even say it to me. you told it to the entire world. go play in traffic.

you tell me to stop playing the victim. but i am the victim. you hate me and want me to die, but it could have been prevented. you didn't even like him. even cameron said he was happy for us and cameron would have done any thing to be with me again. you lied to me and you pointed out my 'mistake' and told the whole fucking world.

he found someone else who lives closer to him because he is a lazy fuck. and isn't man enough to tell me about her. but instead of lying, he just ignores me. we haven't spoken a word since that night and i hope you have fun with her. i hope she makes you fall in love with you and i hope she rips your heart out and slowly inserts a knife into, right in front of your face. I hope she puts it on the grill and cooks it and forces you to eat your cold lies.

thats still only half of what i felt.



and you don't have anything anymore. we were each others lives and now you have no one. I miss the times we had together but it's not worth it. you say you can't trust me, but you have no reason not to. I never lied to you. i told you what was what to your face. Then you get mad because I said that I cant trust you. I have good reasons not to trust you. Not once in all of this have you told me the truth to my face. It really hurts to find out that your best friend is not anything you thought she was. Its hard when she tries to destroy the life that you have built together.


i miss my sister. my best friend. my lincoln.