this is the way i like it.
tucked away in a corner of the world,
together, we can be alone sometimes.

days inch by and the weeks pass too slow,
early morning hours before the world wakes up,
but we look around and the summer heat is gone.

create your own pete wentz poem.

i've got myself to blame for this,
this is the first day of my life,
you are sober, acting drunk,
could have been a night like any other,
shadows all around you as you surface from the dark.

weight of days lost holding you down,
coin operated boy sitting on the shelf,
there is nothing you can do that i have not already done to myself,
when your only friends are hotel rooms,
"over and out", she said from a hospital bed.

if you're so smart, explain this,
are we growing up or just going down?
we found a house with a yard and moved all of my things,
since that clock's first tick,
tell me all your plans and i'll laugh back in your face.

it's the calming before the storm,
two to one, static to the sound of you and i,
i want be the picture on your wall,
i have a story, a bitter anthem,
if we cut out the bad, well then we'd have nothing left.

i am the reason for the earthquake in Haiti.
i am the reason for fire and flood,
for starving children and broken bones,
for unhappiness and jealousy and hatred and selfishness.
it's my fault.
but i can save the world.
just lend me your cape.

this is our world.
rotting wood, metal bars.
we are pioneers, perched between cold lines.
these are the lines between self-medication
and self-destruction.
this is what separates us from them.
this is the way we bite our nails and can't look each other in the eye.
this is for the secret smiles.
this is for a taste of freedom.
but the tracks slow,
they stop,
and we don't move.
we are carried.
the hands three rows back flutter nervously...lovers' hands.
the mouth across the aisle spits excuses...a wasted life.
we will never grow up.
we can't see the lights, we can't hear the sirens.
we can only see the other side.
and when the reflection aligns,
it's four shadows.
us versus the world.
this is our escape.

i'm not bitter and i don't hate you,
but it's your fault i don't believe in love.

you will pay for your sins.
count 'em, one by one.
carve them out on your skin.
one for the tears drawn in charcoal.
one for the words you didn't mean.
one for the hearts you stole.

and countless more,
because it's the only way to survive.