One

I'll take a shot. Something below the bottom shelf. Let's try the cellar.

"Son, the only thing down there is solitude."

I'll take two then.

A Day in the Life

Just a good guy with bad luck.


That's what we all say, right? The party-line becomes the lifeline. There's no sink, no swim. There is only what is and what isn't.


And excuses.


The front of the rim, the lips of a pretty girl. We handle rejection as it is given. Always an inch from glory, a dish best served.


Now? Never? Ever.


Cliches provide cover to scorn a lover. They serve as a buffer from one to another. It's not you, it's me. It's not me, it's we.


It's irrelevant just how you spin it, when there's only one of us whose truly in it. A walk through hell. A lie you choose to tell. Just leave me grasping for straws, but hold your applause. It's not any less shitty because you're pretty.

Just a good guy with bad luck. Another girl who refuses to give a fuck.

Chapter 2: Fuck Shit Goddamnit

And I was plagued by good intentions.

Can I make it right?
Bridges burned can still be crossed
If you do it wrong.

Chapter 2 has been brought to you by haiku's across the world. Chapter 3 will come when you care the least.

Chapter 1: The Hero Dies

"I'll take the bullet if you pull the trigger," he said. His ending was written across her face. But the ending doesn't matter if it's a good fucking story. She pulls it. The trigger. She pulls it. The hero dies.





To Be Continued in Chapter 2 (Name TBA. Fuck me, it wouldn't come to me tonight).