Panic at the Disco told me this was Gospel

Hey guys...
Its S jay

I know its been a while. It feels like forever.
And forever feels all to vaguely familiar.

I'm home.

White washed walls gurney me back to the dark places I used to dwell.

Faceless portraits still hang in their gold leafed frames.

Mom loved the way our faces hung above the stairs.

Its the creaks in the floor boards that shove my lifeless body over the edge.

Every tear in the wall paper, and stain on the balcony takes me back.

Deep breaths and faint smells of char

I'm home.

 

 

Its like nothing has moved, just rotted away, dying in the slowest most agenizing ways.

 

Where have you been Sally?

You left us here, and we've missed the taste of your misery  your lightless love

 

Oh Sal. It is so good to have you home,

you never come over for dinner.

We miss the absence of your laughter.

Its just not as empty without you.

Its nice to hear your heartbeat echo here once again, sjay.

 

 

I'm scared my sutures never actually healed and everything's just going to come pouring out of them.

So I am home, for some band aids.

Some smooth jazz.

A cocktail or two thousand glasses of my own blood.

 

 

Only time will tell,

S jay

They follow me, those snakes.

Why is it that pasts are so vital to who we are but so harmful to who we could be?

How is it that they work they way into new beautiful things, wrap themselves around them, and squeeze until their is no sign of life?

Dark, and slithery like snakes we breed in darker parts of our minds.

Eating every last thing we fill ourselves with until the emptiness finds its way home again.

 

 

And them we push, and pull, and fight to untangle all the mangled rubble left over

but all there is, is snakes.

 

Where did that happiness go

Why would they do this

 

Snakes

and old lovers

 

Snakes

and lost chances

 

Snakes

and nostalgia

 

Snakes

and scars

 

Snakes

and pasts

 

Filthy pasts

 Filthy Snakes.

 



I am broken and you are perfection

My fast beating heart worries that one day you and this blissful feeling of love will leave me.

I worry that the shadows of my imperfect life will cover all the sunshine I bring you and you will flee for brighter lands.

I struggle to hide the darkness that lurks in my cracked and broken soul; because you deserve perfection and all I deserve is holes.

It's impossible. For me to give you everything. Because everything I have would be nothing for a king.

i'm not pretty.

I am not pretty.

I do not even come close to being beautiful.

I will NEVER be anything close to the expectations either of those words carry.

All I am is Asher.
Evelyn Asher Puriri.
With a wide set nose that is a dead give away of her Polynesian heritage.
With an odd lisps that has been around since the first days she can remember.
With an overly sensitive heart.
With long hair that she hides behind.
With big feet.
With stretch marks that mark each and every one of her struggles.
With scars.
With big hands.
With a feeling of inferiority.
With uncontrollable hair.
With a small chest.
With Asian  eyes and an awkward laugh.
With  an uneven bight and yellowed teeth.
With a scattered brain.
With a healing heart.
With heath issues.
With bulky eyebrows and hair in undesirable places.
With a tendency to sing out of key.
With a carefree mentality and a worried temperament.
With Sad eyes and a broken soul,

THIS IS ALL I AM

Take me, take me as I am.
Or leave me.
Leave me here to be,
to be just what I am.

Because all though I am not perfect, I am a lover. I am forgiving and kind. I always look for the best in people and I forgive the short comings. I choose to be blind to the failures of others. I am kind. I give, and give, and give. I believe in every dream and support every goal. I try to make each wish come true. I find joy in the darkest moments and lead others to the light. I am a giver. I provide every time I can. I Band-Aid each wound, and kiss every boo-boo. I cook and clean and sing like I am GOD DAMN CINDERELLA.

WHAT IS MY LIFE?
-an ugly mess
-a fucking joke
-a desperate search for some real happiness
-delusions


Fuck "reality" and everything it brings.

Love isn't unconditional, and any state of conditionality is a lie.

I'm just trying to find a way to be beautiful.

like the stars

He told me he missed me.

"I miss you like the stars miss the night sky"

And when I thought of all the ways I missed him, my heart couldn't stop.

I miss him like an untouched piano misses the sound of resonating music notes.

If the moon ever left, the ocean tides would miss it the way I miss him.

I miss him like a poet misses the rythmic sound of words bouncing off an audience.

I miss him like a caged bird misses the sky.

I miss him like a crippled man misses the quick moving pavement below his running feet.

Abandoned playgrounds miss children's laughter the way I miss him.

I miss him like rain drops miss the clouds.

I miss him lost left socks miss cold left feet.

I miss him like bound sails miss the feeling of wind that blows acoss the sea.

I miss him like the ground beneath fresh snow misses the warmth of the summer sun.

I miss him like a woman who loves a man misses him while she's away.

I think about all of the ways I love him and my heart never wants to stop.

Where are my words and why are all the type writers gone?

What the hell is depression and why in gods name did it choose me of all people to host this guestless party?

Somedays I see lights if sunshine through his bedroom window, and some nights the terrors find me in his bed. I can't shake it.

These shadows from my past. They drag me down into the darkest depths of each and every ocean.

Brightness is followed by the deepest of darkness, but just as my strength gives out light finds me once again. 

I can't take it, the constant push and pull of my souls ocean tide.