The one thing you want is within your reach, but separated from you by a cold, unfeeling, metal fence. Depression set’s in; feign a headache. Imagine someone there cheering you on, supporting you. It was just a ghost, though. I am Jack’s lonely self-destruction. Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you can go up.
I’ve never really picked up on this, but it’s really a great feeling to be a support to someone else. Even at my lowest, all I want to do is be there for someone, people– even if it’s just moving carts or hitting a note right on time. I am in love, with people that society says are socially unacceptable to love. I say you can’t mess with love.
I want everyone to know how much I want to be there, all the time. It’s my natural high. I’ll be ears for you, I’ll drive you around if you want, I’ll see what you can’t– don’t want to see, I’ll be your heart when yours is broken, in-fact, I’ll be yours, forever. Through everything bad, I’m happy through you; I’m your bitch, because I like you that much.
Also, I want to pierce my eyebrow.