february 29th

february 29th

i sit and think about what has happened.
what i am not ever supposed to say
what is just a secret.
but girls don't really keep secrets unless its between someone they love.
and this girl likes to tell certain people so there are no secrets left.
but this is not something to brag about.
this is personal and only between two people
this is a cheating man and a careless girl.


i think we justified some lessons on sex to make it alright
but it's never alright for you to have done what you did.

you might not care if the one you love
messes around with someone else
but i don't think she would agree if
you were to do just that.

i never want these nights to end

i never wanted to ruin the decency between us

'just don't do anything' - ahhhh, okay.

messing around in your car, sneaking around in your mothers basement, that little bit of mystery and danger. i make nothing but a fool of myself.

you are a beautiful person and almost what i would have been looking for

but you belong to no one except the one you love...
i know that!

oh what do i want to say.
i just want to say i liked it.
i'm sorry if it's wrong.
i know i wasn't any fun.
i know its to never happen again.

i don't understand why you or i let me do what i did.
i want to talk.
no one ever talks afterwards.
shrug it off i suppose.
chalk it up to alcohol and hormones.
and then there's me, creeping away from the act
to go and start over
like nothing has ever happened.

this is why on leap day you can do whatever you want and there are no reminders of a day that doesn't exist for four whole years.

let me sleep on it

i've got a secret.

just hush hush you know?
just between you and i.

it's those goddamn social bedwetters.

i know you think i'm mad. and i just might be.

cause revolutions need victims and i only need a few more.


i never understood that. everything i thought i knew and everything that was true was this way and that. some of my best moments were awhile ago. i am waiting for more but i have found no replacements for the life i once lived.

my musicman, the writer, the poet. my genius.

so i love the fucked up, eccentric soul.


there is more out there, somewhere. nothing is too unique.
there are similarities everywhere.
there is that weird moment of
'i remember this'.

but do i really remember it? it's all distorted.
perhaps all delusions of grandeur.

with you back up against that wall.

why are you always up against everything?

do we not give in, give up?

staring like you just don't care.

but see, i know that you all cared a little too much.

was it ever even enough for this sick girl?