I Don't Think You Know How Many Times You've Talked Me Off A Ledge Without Even realizing It.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so naive to think that I could have a chance with you. My best friend.

You always respond to my snapchats

If you ever wonder how much I love you, remember that I started to cry when we talked about what would happened if we lost each other to death or someone else. And you walked out to your car, you had to hug me close and wipe away my tears, because you brought up how you’d play our stuffed dog until it broke because it said ‘I love you’ in both of our voices.

That’s how much I love you

It's so close. But why can't I touch it? My fingers  just barely graze the surface, but they can't hold onto the feeling. I can't keep my eyes shut forever. I want to. I want to grab onto my oblivion and never let it go.

Inside the Artist #1

In the blink of an eye I could lose you. I hope and pray that I won’t, but those eyes and that personality will get you so many girls. So many girls that can give you the love that I can’t. Even though I can’t influence your feelings towards me, I want to stay close. Because to me, being too close is better than watching you slip right through my fingers into another girl’s arms.

What I've realized when I was at your house

Why do you do this to me? Why do you do this so easily? You make it hard smile because you make it hard to breathe. Why do you do this to me?

Secondhand Serenade

I never thought missing someone could hurt so much. Then I lost you.

I'll be fine

I feel the closest to you when you are the farthest away.

I can feel you in my heart

I’ve wished on every star, but nothing has come true. I’ve wished for you every 11:11, but yet you’re still just as out of reach as before. I’ve wished on every eye lash and every dandelion, but yet you’re still one thousand miles away. And I’m still right here. Alone, withering away with the last weed I wished upon.

I’d call them flowers, but they’re damned

When I’m with You

I tell you I’m fine.

I’m lying.

When he left, it was the color of the sheets. The first day without him, it was color of my coffee. The first time I saw him alone in that room, it was the feel of the air. The last time I saw him, it was color of my tears hitting the cold, tile floor. That bitter January day, with the casket lowering into the hole in the earth. That day became the color of my heart.

The color is blue