push-pinned my picture to your wall,
framed it in pieces of argyle.
there's a thread for every minute
I missed my chance to begin it.

I could feel the pressure building up
as I cram it to the top,
a coffee can filled with letters.
my ears begin to pop
as the tension drops.

we've fallen down, someday you won't be around
for me to fall back on.

it's so akward to say goodbye to you,
the tensest moment when I fail to follow through,
I'm all wound up and then you tighten the screws,
my want turns to need as you slip on the noose.

As I push my pen across the page
casting my spell like a first level mage,
my epic battle between love and rage
a melodramatic mess
not fit for my age

we've fallen down, someday you won't be around
for me to fall back on.
we've fallen down,
all my innocence has drowned since you've gone

she says I'm changing everyday,
she wants to know how, why, and who with.
she says there's still good left in me
like I'm the dark lord of the sith.
I write this every single winter,
and now I'm writing it again:
I shed my common sense
in exchange for newer skin.

the good news
is that I've finally learned to appreciate my friends,
the bad news
is that I havent got any left,
the good news
is that I dream about it almost every night,
the bad news is that when I wake up you're not there.

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