zechariah

Haunted
by the eyes of the dead.
New wounds held open.
Old thoughts of times I have bled for you.
What do you do,
when you're too sad to cry
This hole in my chest,
lets your looks go straight to my heart.
Make me scream out
Make me quiet
Let me see what sunless days are like.
If I could
I would cry blood
hope my prayers are stepped apon.

OK my cat is still dying and I have to decide if she is in pain to decide whether or not to put her down. SUCKS.

Trying to distract myself, but its hard.

OK I have been watching people alot lately and I am starting to really appreciate posture and body language. I have noticed differences in how different people hold themselves. Women carry their hands differently than men. Shy people stand differently than outgoing people. When people square off to fight, you can see a difference between people that want to and those who don't. I think posture is the best indicator for someones personality and emotions. You may be able to hide facial expressions but posture is harder to hide.

Here I am again
Filled with regrets
Writing these words on a torn photo of you.
Looking for reasons to lie
my words are scattered and smeared.
Shoved in glove boxes
til I know what to say,
this melting hot sun
burns my thoughts away
couldn't smile to save my life
my tongue is black,
hasn't seen light in days
bury me with my strap round my neck
hold it tight
take my breath away.

Fuck I don't wanna write any more right now. I'll come back later.