The day after is filled with regret

I wish I could talk to you but pride's got my tongue. You do this every time. Every time I get mad and blow up, a day later you make me feel like a stereotypical, bitchy, vindictive girl who expects too much. I don't even think you do it on purpose. But please, can you get off my mind and out of my heart? I'd like my life back.

Life is in the Small Things

-Cogs-

It’s the sound of rain as hitting the roof when you’re inside

It’s the way he smiles more with one side of his mouth than the other

It’s the rabbit you only see for a second before it hides itself

It’s her hair, frizzy and wild and beautiful if only because it is hers

It’s the taste of cold pizza in the middle of the night

It’s an old toy that was never packed up or given away

It’s the scent of a day under the sweltering sun

It’s the way your breathing changes when you think about it

It’s the slightly off taste of non-sugar sweeteners

-Alicia-

It's the way the sun hits your face in just the right way so you feel like an angel

It's the way you hug someone a little longer trying to tell them you care

It's that one person absolutely anything, even if it's stupid

It's his voice, beautiful and tone deaf

It's the way the wind smells when there's nothing but sun in the sky

It's that person you can recognize by the back of their head in a crowd

It's that one chord on the piano that makes you shiver

It's the nights you stayed up past three AM just thinking