The Truth

The truth has its way of oozing through the cracks in the coffins we attempt to bury it in. The word secret loses all integrity by second grade, followed by words like “best friends” and soon after the facade of “love” is assassinated by hook ups, break ups, and every type of fuck up there is.

Emptiness

It’s the sad reality of it all, this is the emptiness you go home with after an eventful night of absolutely nothing. That missed kiss you never actually went for, she’s at home fast asleep and your picking yourself apart about the emphasis she put on a single syllable in a meaningless word that has somehow spawned your dreams and hopes of forever when the sad truth is, if it lasts 2 months or 6 years you are never…ever guaranteed that it will be forever. We used to scribble things down in notes and diaries now we leave them in the bottom of bottles.

The taste of alcohol and cigarettes
Like broken dreams and old regrets
Don’t pretend that we’ll be okay
I won’t pretend that you’re gonna stay