I didn't write this.

"Inside the snow globe on my father's desk, there was a penguin wearing a red-and-white-striped scarf. When I was little my father would pull me into his lap and reach for the snow globe. He would turn it over, letting all the snow collect on the top, then quickly invert it. The two of us watched the snow fall gently around the penguin. The oenguin was alone in there, I thought, and I worried for him. When I told my father this, he said, "Don't worry, Susie; he has a nice life. He's trapped in a perfect world." "
---The Lovely Bones. A novel by Alice Sebold.

I want to be that penguin.
<3 Bethy.

You make my tummy tumble.

You were always the kind of boy who said you didn't care about what other people said...but you tried so hard to impress them. And as we stood there and kicked rocks down the street you told me that you cared. And I told you that I knew. And you told me that you hated yourself. And I told you that I loved you. And we agreed to disagree. So sit with me for one more day and smile at me for one more minute because I meant what I said. And I need someone to hold my hand into a new day. And you need to see that two out of three isn't bad. And we nned someone to save us before we hurt ourselves. We sure are sturdy for two broken kinds.
<3
-Bethy.

This is how they do it in Hollywood.

You lay there in your unmade bed surrounded by unsung love songs because you're too unworthy to write them. You take a few more pills to pass the time and regret every one that sinks to the pit of your stomach, unnoticed and uncared for. You think up a few more excuses for lying to the ones you love and your confessions are lies that you have to force yourself to believe. You pick at your cuticles and destroy the flesh on your wrists then look for a towel to clean up the mess that you're going to remake tomorrow night. You feel like the whole word's watching you when you're completely unknown to the majority of it's inhabitants. You haunt yourself with the fact that you wear your skin like it's too tight and there's nothing you can do to make it fit. You don't count the pills you're taking, you just take them. You know that one day you're going to wake up nonexistant and the sun's going to forget to shine and you're going to miss it and they're going to miss you. And you don't fucking care because right now that's what you want. And you're selfish for thinking that they're not going to cry when you're gone. You're the kind of persn who writes these kinds of things to people who you haven't met yet just because one day they might need it.
Ihatetalkingtomyself.
-BETHY

Tell me something worth listening to...

I'm not quite sure why I sit on that hill in the middle of the night. It's dark and scary and I fucking hate how alone I feel up there. But I still go. The wind clogs my brain and I can't think straight. I guess I've got this hope stored away that someone somewhere will be as bored and restless as me and come join me. But I know it's not going to happen. The someones that mean the most live too far away and the someone that lives close sleeps like a normal person...and could care less. Sitting on dark street corners under sicly streetlights get you nothing but a creepy name in the town directory. I get this feeling when I'm out there that something bad's happened there. It feels dangerous. And it worries me. I worry about the people around me. And I think they worry about me a little bit. If they don't, they probably should. And if they do...I wish they wouldn't. The gears in my brain don't turn just right and it's a tricky place to be left in. I get caught up all the time. Tripping on dropped hearts and tangling myself in ungreased wheels. I'm so (ob)scene. This is completely unnecessary and probably makes no sense. I wrote something the other day that I'm going to post later. Keep your eyes open. It'll be better than this. Click clickclick clickclick click click clickclick. I miss you I miss you I miss you. I do I do I do I do. Someone's making my tummy tumble. I should stop click clicking. I'm giving myself a headache. "I know the world's a broken bone. But melt your headaches...call it home." I heart whoever knows what that means.
-smilelikeyoumeanit.
BETHY.

I don't count the pills, I just take them.

And this is all you need to see.

Am I hurting your eyes yet?

She said she won the world at a carnival.

Neon streetlights under nuclear sea skies.
She misses looking off the edge of the world.
Through the clouds and far far away.
Come skip with her through the misty gold
And down a ray of moonlight.
Dance with her in the downpour.
Sing with her through the thunder.
Ride with her on the lightening bolts.
She just wants to love but doesn't know how.
The fire can't fall for the snow.
-idontloveyouimjustpassingthetime
BETHY.

Dance Through The Sky On Dreams We Don't Believe.

Here we are again
Sitting on rooftops and dreaming
wishing to get away.
Laying on the moon turning
stars on strings.
Watching the world spin faster
and I'm glad we're not on it.
Maybe the sun will forget to come up.

Wake up in a cold bed with the sun
shining through the window into tired eyes.
It didn't forget.
Pray for another day to get away.
And lay on the moon turning
stars on strings
and watch the world spin faster.

Step out the door and there's a ribbon
where the day meets the night.
The sun's not quite up and the moon's
barely down.
And you want to walk that line between
opposing sides.

Whisper a secret to the moon
'cause the sun's your worst enemy.
And watch the world turn faster
and the stars spin out of control.

Whisper a secret to the moon
'cause the sun's your worst enemy.

Whisper a secret to the moon
'cause the sun's your worst enemy.

And today it forgot to come up.

Whisper secrets to the sun
because the moon never went down.


----------
PS! That's a song...
That I wrote.
-Bethy<3