Sometimes, I feel (and act) like a shmuck.

Just so you know,

I was madly and completely in love with you. From the first moment I looked up. Even in that dark, sick hell hole I was in for so long. Every time you were uncomfortable when Abby asked if we were dating, it made me crazy. I sound insane. I sound stupid. I know it. I know. But, I need to say this. Because now I'm confused. Just ask someone out, for Chrissake. Just let me know. Because I am so confused. So confused. And, dear, because I think you might just like it when I call you that, I am afraid. Because your friendship means more than the heart you have no idea you are breaking.

Prologue.

Jerry was blessed. He wasn’t blessed with good looks or straight teeth. Wealth had never been associated with his name. No, Jerry was blessed with the chance to see a good story, or at least the end of it.

Entertainment was scarce for Jerry. He sat out on his cold bench, watching the people go by, but nothing interesting ever happened. Occasionally a pretty girl would break her heel. Once, a guy in a Spiderman costume had walked by in July. Sometimes Jerry contemplated moving over to another bench. That guy from across town always had the funniest stories, maybe he would move there. He never put that into action, however. Fears always snuck up on him. What if all the other benches were taken? What if he couldn’t find any food? No, it was much better for him just to stay where he was.

But back to this story. It happened in March, according to Jerry. A nice, warm spring day, it wasn’t even raining. The girl came first. She wasn’t even crying. Just walking along. And then, she fell. She just keeled over right there on the sidewalk. Jerry started to get up and help her, but he didn’t want to lose his bench. There was no reason to mess himself up, for weeks, maybe, just because some girl passed out. The boy came. He ran right up to her. Dropped down to his knees and all stroked her hair. And he was muttering something, but Jerry couldn’t hear that. But, Jerry had watched enough people in his day to know that reaction meant the girl was ill, or dead. Like they always do, people converged upon the scene of such a tragedy. They got in his way. So really, old Jerry only saw half of an end of a story. That was enough.

Jerry died three days later. Apparently, he had a heart attack, it is the silent killer, you know. I hate to start a story out so morose and everything, I just thought you should know the facts. I just thought you should know what happened to Jerry. Because, to be honest, you should know not to get to attached, because he doesn’t play a very big part at all in this story. He just told me about it. And I just know how to ask the right questions.

This story is really just about a girl named Layla. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. I hadn’t, anyway. But this boy had, and this story is kind of about him, too.

YEH? well fuck you too.

you know what? I am a very sick person.

Dying Sun

Another sun hidden
Behind perpetual scars
Streaks of blood dripping
Down legs, arms,
Thoughts
Hiding you
As you seek your farfetched relief
It never comes
It never saves
No hand appears
To stop
To save
Another sun
Another hope
Buried beneath these dark blots of insanity

I understand, and I wish I was eloquient enough to write this the way it should be written.

Yes, I am still thinking about.

Laugh as you ruin a life.
Anyone want to join in on the fun?
Oh come on, come on,
Stop being so goodie- goodie.
Shut the Fuck UP
You dont know
You cant see
I see
Sometimes I wish I didn't.
But it is there.
It is there.
You dont know.
Your doing this to her.
You dont know.
I know.
I know its like physical pain
Shut the Fuck UP.