I consider myself a poet first and a musician second. I live like a poet and i’ll did like a poet.
I’ve got it bad. To the point that I would be happy even if I heard her voice, even if only for a second.
Its four oh three and i can’t sleep without you next to me i toss and turn like the sea
God i miss those eyes. When i lie awake and night i long to see them. When i close my eyes, their reflection is what i see. A pale ghost.
I can’t sleep. I feel so stupid, but i wished for you at eleven eleven. Its only been one day.
I can’t talk to Sydney for an indefinite amount of time. Her parents threw a bitch fit over grades. I can’t explain the whole situation…
Tumblr, I need you again. I can’t believe i thought i didn’t. Eh. Texting in posts.
Ship Ship Ahoy is gonna be beastin. Woody has crazy mad skills on the drums:P
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