Dying To Be On The Best Side Of Your Bedside

From the outside, your bedroom window is my lighthouse. Two hearts between four walls. But we both know your room burns so much brighter with the lights out. Like waking up stranded with dead cell phones and no car. You have stolen my escape.

Random trips to carnivals is the new random trips to the Toy section of the nearest drug store. I'm drunk off of your fun.

For our hearts only:
-"Ahhh man, come on! You're just don't want to give me that golden coin."
-"Ohh No... where did all my tickets go man?!!!"
-I shot the sheriff
-"Brought to you by the Mens Club, don't forget to try their delicious hotdogs"
-"I can count by twos and tie my shoes"
-Plinko and the Fish game
-Bake sales and 25 cent books

You are smiles and assurances. I am ideas and insecurities. Sleep easy, babe. I'm wide awake.

In the meantime remember that language is a virus. We are merely the hosts. I am romances last terrorist. Long live our car crash hearts.

YouArePefectionOnMyPillowcase

She's Cleaning Out His Closet, While I'm Dying A Thousand Deaths

I'm on my way up to the roof, to catch a glimpse of you forgetting about me.

The girl you think has everything.... really does. But it's because she took it all from you. You're just a Juliet without the follow-through. From now on measure your lifespan by how many times your heart can take a breaking and keep on beating.

Did you think I was just wasting breath when I spoke of loyalty? I meant it in all directions. I'm loyal to his memory. I could walk this fine line between elation and fear, but we all know which way I'm going to strike the stake between my chest.

I bet your logging in just to search for more. You've always seemed like a collector. Haven't you heard Baby Girl, I'm a one of a kind. If I'm only here to sit on your shelf put yourself at ease, I found a spot for myself on the auction block.

No one is my equal because I'm the king of rain. Catch this thunderstorm. Peel the layers back and let it pour. Watch us all dance for cover. Fake it like I matter, thats a lie we can both keep.

Today I answered every question as accurately as I could. Now I'm the victim and her voice is like the sound of sirens to a house on fire. She's saving me. There's always two sides to the story and two sides to a page but you can only read one at a time. Have another drink while you skim past mine.

The First Rule Is Don't Sleep

Darling, this is an attempt at love, not a contest. And every breath I take is carefully guided from my lips to yours. The lack of affection is pushing me backwards in a direction of self-doubt. Sometimes I feel like you might be ashamed of me.

Every time I keep my heart open all that comes in is disappointment. I tried shutting the windows so that I’m only able to see you, but you're not close enough to touch… This is how I should keep you always, just beyond my fingertips where you can never belong to anyone else. Tonight it's tired eyes vs. tired sighs and I’m betting on red. I love how every word you speak I misunderstand. I can only see the bad in myself, you have to tell me the rest, when we're only separated by a windowsill, and my hand is the one pressed against the glass.

Tonight makes sense in tongues and riddles over the airwaves… inside jokes no one else will ever understand but her.

I’m starting to believe that I’m the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

Funny how you only have dreams when your eyes are closed.

Right now I feel like I’m around for when you’re bored, when you’ve flipped through the channels three times without finding one to stop on, when the hangover wears off at 3pm and when your friends are with their other friends and there’s no cheeks or lips to kiss but the ones on me you turn away. I’m out of my head trying to be in yours.

So pull the covers up over your head and drown out the daylight and the phrase "I love you" traced on your windowsill from the hand you’re currently holding. Sleep through this.

SunBetweenTheClouds

I'm the Greatest Movie to all of my Critics

When I left you this morning the color stayed behind. Driving away, a monochromatic chill was my only passenger. I wish night was never ending. If only the sun was as unreliable as I am. Here's to a highly contrasted season. Where fresh lips are new butterflies. Transparent "I love yous."

If you fall down enough, you'll find that getting up is what really hurts. There is so much history in the center of my chest.

Turn the page. What you thought was goodbye is just a disguised 'see you soon'. It never comes soon enough.

Deep breaths.

I am starting to realize that words aren't much different than colors. Given the perfect inspiration, both can create a masterpiece. Words are read long after the feeling is dead. Colors are adored long after the paint brush hits the floor. These are moments captured in ink, dreams broadcasted through a beautiful obstruction of imagination on canvas.

I hope these words somehow crawl through wires and find their way to your eyes(heart), but chances are they're just as weak as me.

Dreaming Of A Reset Button

How you are doing - is all a matter of who is asking. I know that these last few days have been the opposite of lullabies. Just know that I'd give it all away to see you smile again.

Baby Girl with raccoon eyes, stay forward, I'll watch the rest.

They're saying I was your motive. Careless words being thrown around like objects... and speculation is spraying like bullets.

Lay low. Dream high.

Stage Coaches Will Eventually Become Pumpkins

With all that has happened I'm finding artifacts from a time when I had a little more faith. Metaphors and amphetamines are flowing through my bloodstream, but every sentence I form seems to take the wrong tone. Words mean more this week. Mostly because they're all we have left.

If his ship was sinking then what was the point of walking the plank? Why were you so anxious to hit rock bottom?

Saving your voice mails from hours before it all went wrong. I wish you would have "pressed 9 to save," but you hit "7" to delete... But more than anything I wish I would have just picked up. I should have answered. It's too late to question, so in the mean time you can find me basking on the beaches of crocodile tear swamps.

She calls to say the most random things and I love her for it. In these times I'll be a shoulder, ear, or heart to fall on... just to get her to the warm.

WriteCrookedThinkStraight

Writing my heart down on the wrinkled, folded loose leafs that I keep in my pockets at night. I keep them there because I can never tell when I'll spark some sort of frustration that I need to get out.

Dimming The Lights... With Hopes That The Stars Show Through

Loaded lovers and loaded words have led to a literal fallen friend.

Less writing, more L i/oving

If My Hearts A Bucket Of Paint...You're Jackson Pollack

And I want so badly for you to be here with me to see this sunset over Lake Norman. It is placed outside my window beyond the deck, like the painting that I'm constantly searching for, to fill the empty space on the wall above my bed.

An almost white-orange sun is melting with deep blue water that is giving piggy-back rides to white breaks and waves. The green tree line in the distance is shading the tanned beach that I've spent my Summer on. Soon the tree line will be fragmented with the latter part of the color wheel. Browns/Yellows/Reds.... My favorite.

I'm currently finding irony in the way that I'm letting myself go mentally with no problem... feeling like it's the best thing I've done for myself in years..... Yet the way that I'm letting myself go physically is the worst thing that anyone could do to themselves. Just another Grey area that I will never master. Balance is for gymnasts and I'm clearly disproportioned.

If I had to be a day on anyone's calendar I'd be the 1st or the 15th. Good enough to help you out of your current troubles, and sweet enough to help you put yourself into more debt.

Envelopes Postmarked To Nowhere

To me their eyes just appear like pills. It's funny. Almost as if the blue ones take to you down and the brown ones are around to pick you up. It doesn't even make a whole lot of sense looking back on it now. And when the truth is told it will include the fact that there are a couple of sets of eyes that are like bookmarks in each of our lives. They are there to mark the chapters. Highlights so you pay attention to the changes. Dogeared pages.

Like the reflection I saw in her eyes the first time... you know... when all of the blood ran out of me. Standing there in the arch of her doorstep with the biggest eyes that trusted and believed and dreamed and hoped and lived.... So I blinked. I faked like I couldn't tell. I was always so god damned scared to see my own flaws reflected on them. And I cant count the times I crushed them. And I realize that they will never look up to me the same.

After awhile when you bounce back and forth between different hearts nothing gets old. You never really have to mean anything to anyone. Maybe she has intimacy problems with the world?

Her eyes are blackened around the edges so much that in the morning she looks like a raccoon. They look like permanent black eyes.. The consummate victim. Everybody loves the victim. She looks independent in a very vulnerable way. The safest kind of dangerous.

We’re sitting on the edge of her bed. I'm reminded of the fact that every single inch on our bodies is filled with millions of nerves.... and that somewhere inside our brains, neurons have fired to synapses and put them on alert. That must be why when my hands brush hers it feels electric. Every movement has a meaning, either yes or no. And every time she moves her hand to her hair it feels like she is sending signals. Stay or leave. Why can’t I figure them out.

There she was sitting in front of me, knee pulled up to to her chin, probably thinking of something or someone else. And thats how she will be stuck in my mind forever. Two explorers in the dark, mapless and hopeless. We're not just taking trips down memory lane, we are broken down on it.

My new favorite things are doll face dreams and giving in.

GiveLoveThenTakeItAway

Stay In Love, Fall In Touch

I'm enjoying the way that we have been ourselves after dark. Somehow the things we say mean more in corners of bars when we focus on everything outside of our heads.

The pact we made and titles we exchanged this weekend aren't cause for a funeral babe. I think we both just want the headline to die so we can begin writing the rest of the story. So fall into this with me.

Weekend daylight is your enemy. Recovery is the new drug. Sunday evenings have us wanting to hop in the car to purchase some energy... or was it some rest. Either way we both know that over the counter doesn't cut it... whether it be hearts or capsules.

Wreck it all, one heart at a time. Sleepovers and the toy section of the nearest drug store.

My Skin Has Made Promises. Whether The Rest Of Me Has Or Not.

Cell phones ring with unexpected voices. Voices that I've only had conversations with in my sleep for the past 10 years. She was calling from my parents front porch. The same place that I last kissed her goodbye. First loves and last kisses, all tracking me down in the September sun.

She still swears that every single word she ever said was always just a bullet in his head. Flights to Utah, we buried him underground between friends and love that Fall, the only things that made it to the end with him.

Lately I've felt a lot like what I imagine he was feeling. Maybe more like a hand grenade, and now she swears that every word she says pulls the pin.

I wiped up his fragments to save her mothers eyes from it all. I still dream about the way his skull was so brittle.... and the way that it was probably just a hint of his spine. Permission to hate him? Granted. But we both still have permission to forgive. Besides...nothing good has ever come from a grudge... or a gun for that matter.

Stains remain, and that's not just a metaphor, it's much more like a description of the garage floor. But I think there's been a breakthrough. I've come to grips with it all this afternoon. A day on the lake cleared so much of the clutter. I think I might have even understood him a little better. For a moment.

CandlesLitForMrWheatley... that's what Fall reminds me of. And yet it's still my favorite season. Here's to the few and far between moments that we have shared since graduation. You're doing big things kid. I can't wait to get to know you all over again. And the answer is "no." I gave you that piece of my heart forever. I don't want it back. Besides the scar is so much better.

Realize RealEyes RealAllies

Lets stage my death. Tell me who shows up to watch. Because lets face it... some lives have been written up in chalk, and then sometimes the rain comes to wash them all away.

Trying to remember every night is like trying to catch my breath. And the years have taken their toll but I'm still right here. We're bullets in the chamber waiting for the powder and the hammer to kiss.

I love the way Fall feels in my nose. Oranges and yellows, burning leaves, and us always trying to make our way upstream. The world has a funny way of playing tricks on us.

Watch read write scream interact get bigger than all of the stupid stuff your head wraps itself around.

Slowly Going The Way Of The Buffalo

Tables turn and old friends are finding themselves in need of company.

I love the way that when the rain won't give in, everyone else feels this disease that I live with. Using words like dreary, gloomy, and Grey. Welcome to Narcolepsy, where the forecast is always dark clouds and rain showers. What's really sick, is the fact that I'm more than proud to have established a residence here. I almost feel like it's a gift. Relaxing rain dripping on tin roofs. JustGiveIn.

I scratched mosquito bites in my sleep to the point that they have scabbed over... like my subconscious is the artist, and my body is the canvas, painting scars to remind me of our weekend on Fripp Island.... where I was bitten... or at least got the bug.

When it rains it pours, and this applies to potential mates. I've already passed my heart on so the rest of them are just wasting time. Lazy eyes stuck on maybes.

Sometimes I feel like the clock is telling me off.. instead of the time. I'm the page that you keep flipping back to, you know... the one you keep bookmarked for future references only.

I'd type more but my energy has been used up by my heart, waving this white flag.

lovehostage

Hearts and Wrists Intact

Keep typing Ryan, maybe it will keep you from venturing out into trouble....

Like a dog, walking in circles before lying down, my mind has wound itself again around thoughts of you and I.

Plans are as follows: Stand forehead pressed against cool windows meant to keep uncool things out, not keep them in. Tonight everything feels backwards so this just fits in with the theme.

I'll stick to crossing my heart or t's because fingers give me away every time.

Please show up at my door and remind us both that I'm still alive. Here's another "I heart you" that I should be whispering against your ear tonight. This weekend was a glimpse into a few of your cute quirks, and if I'm lucky I might see them all.

I heart the way we let the ringing of our cellphones become background noise when we're together... and the way that you'll answer my call even when you have better things to do.

Who needs a gym when we work our abs out with the laughter between us. Surreal is the word that unlocks the definition of the events that happen around you and I when we travel.

AndAgainThisIsJustForMe

NYC Is For Tired Kids and Wired Eyes

Bullet Points to serve our memories only. You, me, and 4410.

Do you remember:

-Bar hopping into every single chair and booth I've ever sat in, as if fate was trying to re-write every NYC memory I have, to include you.

- A stranger involving us in a philosophical discussion about a banana peel on Christopher street. Sally on the floor at Chumley's. (Her feeding time is 11:37.) The "Listen to me" guy at Caliente Cab who couldn't hold onto a napkin... you handle the waiters from now on. Random piles of books on the sidewalk and trying to push each other into cellars on Bleeker Street. Using Lavender Linen spray like mase on my right eye while blindfolded. Stiff-Arming that girl in the lobby as she turned the corner? "Get that smell away from me." Hands in water fountains. Sharing a revolving door.

- The way that the random girl in a summer dress was holding flowers, and leaning against the "Crosswalk" sign, clearly out of place. The infamous danceoff in front of hundreds in Washington Square Park. 2nd place has never looked so cool. Admit it. The guy on the subway listening to Madonna on his I-Pod.. "Holidaaayyy!" Advil and Diet Coke to get you going. "Do you want me to make you a sandwich? I cut my hand carving you a wooden pickle."

- The trash bag clothed man on 8th Ave. Ray's Pizza that we don't even remember ordering. "Grow-A-Girlfriend," "Gay Accent Spray," "Garbage Pail Kids," and "Finger Hooks," .... Oh and those amazing rings that even airport security didn't notice. The amazing magnets you found for Tom and Liz. Mr. Squarepants in the middle of Times Square. Nobody should "weeeee" alone. "How the hell did I turn the sheets blue?" "People With A.I.D.S. Plaza." Buying gifts for friends but keeping them for yourself! 4 old school snow globes. Drinks at Puck Fair.

- "Are you being a good travel companion?" Complaining about a bruise that I gave you while saving your life. Dining at Butter, ordering a grilled cheese sandwich and warm chocolate cake! The party that broke out on the corner of 49th due to the flashing laser lights with crystal NY skylines. The maids leaving our slices of pizza with bites in them. The lack of trash cans.

It all started with an unexpected limo ride and a room with a great view, at the top of the city. It all ended with me wanting to do it all over again... but only if you're on my arm.

TheresNotAPillToKeepYouFromMyMind

You're Out of Proportion... Far Too Tiny For That Heavy Heart

I woke up this morning appreciating the moon outside your window. Loving the way its shadows highlight the way your shoulder blades curve, when your back is turned to me. The way my hands felt like they should wait in line before they even went near.
My cellphone fights to get a signal in your apartment, I have that in common with it.

I think what we have right now is pretty amazing. Imagine if we both put our hearts into it. I lost another eyelash, wish on new love.

I never understood why you let someone with as many flaws and failures as I have near you, why you felt my arms were worthy of holding you. Of course I've never argued it, I just keep hoping you never come to your senses.

I have to be one step ahead to make sure I keep getting stepped on.

Love the underdogs... we need it more.

Currently collecting cans of red paint for NYC.

sleeplessdreams

ryanheartsher

I only wish I could mean more than the hair raising on your neck or the angel and devil on whichever shoulder you choose. Peter Pan evenings in the breeze of Fripp Island. I hope I'm your Mayflower. I hope I'm your Plymouth Rock. Black magic and all. Lets make a pact. It always starts with some small "I" and ends with an apology or "I'm just seeing the world." I need to become me. You know what I mean? If I dream, I hope I dream of this.

Pickupthephone. Tellmehowitgoes. Fallasleep. Dontdreamofthis. Crashyourcar. Tellthedoctorstomailmetheblood.

Turning Book Shelves Into Driftwood

I think about your arms around me or your voice on the other end of the telephone, and sometimes it feels like it was just a dream. Your lips parted, leaning in just for me. The way you'd pull me to your bed as if I wouldn't go willingly. As if my feet were afraid. As if my heart was underneath them.

Just because you can see it doesn't mean it's yours to have, like the moon and the stars. Oh yeah and you.

Take me to the hospital and feed me through my arm cause my mouth's just always only good for words I won't mean anymore when the pills wear off.

We are the talk about town, the grapevine's being watered.

Leave no hearts (or stomachs) unturned,
7’s for when you’re not quite sure

imissfripp

My Losing Season

Trips to Fripp. I'm with Tuna. The King of Hearts went missing. The Prince of heartbreak found him in the dunes.

For now she will be the honest touch that bruises. For ever I'll be playing musical chairs with hearts. For her I will continue to trace the shoreline with crossed fingers, reminding myself that even the tide gives in.

Walking on the beach today I found myself missing you before I had even left. Why do I only remember the things I planned on saying after we have returned to the rest of the crowd. I love the way my name sounds when it comes out of your mouth.

Excuses are like flowers, pretty and just to change the subject.

Dream me up something better than me and you. Because love doesn't mean a thing if it's not leaving us light headed. All of my headaches are in my chest for you now.

sideeffectlover

I Heart Scars... She Scars Hearts.... I Guess We're Soulmates

Sometimes I swear that I have ink running through my veins. This constant need to create has left my fingertips in constant motion, typing, painting, strumming.. posting. The inside of my head is just words bouncing back and forth.

Her presence sharpens my flaws... or at least my awareness of them. Six digits and hang up the line. Who knew a dial tone could rattle this cage with such havoc? I want to live under a softer light as I continue to wait on the one word that will spark comfort.

There is such a thing as knowingly unmaking yourself. Seasons change, people don't. You will see less of what you expect. And I'm not sure you will realize that its on purpose. I just want the smile to be real again.

Recommend me a book to read.