Buddy Wakefield Quotes

This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go.

I should have told You before talking in terms of Forever that any given day wears me out and works me sour, that there are nights when the sky is so clear I stand obnoxious underneath it begging for the stars to shoot at me just so I can feel at Home.

I am standing like shoe polish on an overstocked shelf hoping that one day someone will pick me to make things better.

Listen, I’m not entirely comfortable being human.

I have realized that the moon did not have to be full for us to love it. That we are not tragedies stranded here beneath it.

I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself.

And I know I’m not perfect. But I believe I was meant to be.

Step into this experience with the goose bumps in your heartbeat

Tell me my heart beats a war drum that my eyes are not just armies but my spine is a harpoon.

We can stick anything into the fog and make it look like a ghost but tonight let us not become tragedies. We are not funeral homes with propane tanks in our windows, lookin’ like cemeteries. Cemeteries are just the Earth’s way of not letting go. Let go. Tonight let’s turn our silly wrists so far backwards the razor blades in our pencil tips can’t get a good angle on all that beauty inside. Step into this with your airplane parts. Move forward and repeat after me with your heart: “I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself.” Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did. Go slow. I’m new to this. But I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop without jumping. I have realized that the moon did not have to be full for us to love it, that we are not tragedies stranded here beneath it, that if my heart really broke every time I fell from love I’d be able to offer you confetti by now. But hearts don’t break, y’all, they bruise and get better. We were never tragedies. We were emergencies. You call 9 – 1 – 1. Tell them I’m having a fantastic time.

Everyone has some they can't contain.

Lord, let me write, leave me autistic and typing until my windows bust into a thousand silver doves and I know the poem is done.

If we were created in God’s image, then when God was a child he smushed fire ants with his fingertips and avoided tough questions.

Well this is me without my prozac, and this is me just shy of nicotine, and mother fuckers, it’s my second time to fail anger management class.

This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go. It was not my intention to make such a production of the emptiness between us playing tuba on the tombstone of a soprano to try and keep some dead singer’s perspective alive. It’s just that I coulda swore you had sung me a love song back there and that you meant it but I guess sometimes people just chew with their mouth open so I ate ear plugs alive with my throat hoping they’d get lodged deep enough inside the empty spots that I wouldn’t have to hear you leaving

It’s just that I coulda swore you had sung me a love song back there and that you meant it but I guess sometimes people just chew with their mouth open

There are massive stacks of bad choices in my backyard. Haven't finished cleaning the place up but I'm workin' on it and clearly I have not yet reached enlightenment for more than a fleeting moment but I'm tryin' and I found somethin' here I want ya to have. It's not much just a story but it's all I've got so take it.

Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did. Go slow. I’m new to this.

On the face of her phone Wileen programs a message to herself so that when the alarm clock rings the screen flashes: EVERY DAY IS ONE DAY LESS. EVERY DAY IS ONE DAY LESS. For some people happiness it's just a reduction in suffering. Jordan. Jordan tattoos the words FORGIVE ME in thick black letters down the inside of his arm so that when he looks at his wrist he will remember not to hate himself so much. What he keeps forgetting is that there is life after survival.

I’m no longer interested in watching you rise from the falls you keep taking in vain just for a reason to stand.

Let your head climb back down through your throat and into your body so it can see just how good you look when you're not compared to anything.

Listen, I know there were days you wanted to die when the sky was so clear you’d stand obnoxious underneath it begging for stars to shoot you just so you could feel at home. I know about the ways you misplaced all the right words, stockpiled every important social cue you ever missed from the first time you learned you were wrong, waited to make it right once everyone stopped watching. I know you let them beat up your beauty in bed because redemption was still alive in you, howling relentless, gathering strength. Felt like ecstasy when they pounded it out of you in the hard dark. Those days of dead weather got all strung together and they spoke for you, wore you down to telling everyone here it was a good life so you could run back into the wails of your windfight. I know the parts of your past that haunt you the most are the days you weren’t being yourself, and I know that’s why most of your past haunts you. There were so many who found you out, and they were right. You were good. So un- numb.

I’ve seen fish hooked who keep more patience in their worst gill than some of you have in your best moods. If you were a sandwich at McDonalds, they’d call you the McGrump.

And if we really do get what we give, then I give up, so I can get up

I'm gonna roll outta here one day, I just might not get to drive

Dear Angry Older People, over 21-ish, anyone who considers themselves an adult, still bitter: Next time you're wondering what wrong with kids today, you might wanna check the examples you've been giving us to work with. Because if you ever want to make sense of us, you’ve got to make sense to us, without telling us you’re too old to walk that far. You’ve got to try to understand why we like looking like rag dolls, why we like looking like the way we feel, and why we keep our senses floored when it’s you behind the wheel. And if you ever really do want to understand why we seem so angry, well for one, you told us we could be anything we wanted to be, but right now, we’re a little busy dodging bombs.

I keep forgetting to put focus on my to-do list.

In the dream I was onstage and there were thousands of you goin’ bananas for me, all laughing and clapping, celebrating your brains out, not because I was somethin’ else up there, but because you were just so happy I was finally starting to get it.

Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.

They both just wish they would’ve known a little sooner about this life that every loss doesn’t have to cost so much, doesn’t have to hit so heavy, doesn’t have to get so dirty.

Taking the time to write my way back Home, through any given space that might slip between me and Happiness, is my life’s work. And for a moody guy like me, there is much work to be done. But be a little leery of people like me in my current state.

I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself" Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did. Go slow. I’m new to this. But I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop without jumping. I have realized that the moon did not have to be full for us to love it, that we are not tragedies stranded here beneath it, that if my heart really broke every time I fell from love I’d be able to offer you confetti by now. But hearts don’t break, y’all, they bruise and get better. We were never tragedies. We were emergencies. You call 9 – 1 – 1. Tell them I’m having a fantastic time.

When the safety comes to greet us you will know it did not come easy.

So I ate ear plugs alive with my throat hoping they’d get lodged deep enough inside the empty spots that I wouldn’t have to hear you leaving

You know I wanna breathe deeper than this.

I’m addicted to it. To giving all the good stuff away but not keeping enough of it safe at home.

Cranking the brightside catapult is an odd job for someone who is still so uncomfortable with love.

How can I remember to breathe when who you are is so exciting?

Did you see where the wind went when it got knocked out of me?

tricked me into loving heartache as if lonely was a thing to strive for.

It is only necessary to wear a seat belt if you’re sitting up.

Thank goodness I dream too fast to get killed in a grown-up car crash.

I wish you could see what you look like  when you’re still here.

If anyone ever loves you that hard, hard as you’ve been dreaming, chances are you will not believe them

Ed said, “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m an angry man.

I kick the backs of seats when I don’t get the life I need. Do not block the aisles if I experience absolution. There should be enough room to dance in it. A room the size of all the wisdom I have so far gathered up  but have not yet consistently handled well.

He held a need to be forgiven on his shoulder.

You’re so clever the way you slit the big out of people then pat them on the fault lines.

You built a corner around me because I couldn’t be backed into one...

Leave all those things out of your mind, out of your reason, out of this room, off of this street, and away from this city, in a place you will never visit.

There is no need to internalize the chaos.

Cemeteries are just the Earth’s way of not letting go.

Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.

You will be given back the years that the locusts have taken.

Throw out the map and the fear, and embrace the freedom that comes from being your own best hope.

I choose to end the compulsive habit of thinking and speaking insecurities.

This door only opens for the remarkable now.

There is a book living inside your chest with dilated instructions on how to make a safe landing. It was written for crash landers.

Ghosts are haunted, not us.

He is finding the source of his rivers and is willing to cut off the hostile branch.

It will be my joy the day you are certain. I will buy front row tickets to your target practice.

Yes, it was a lame place to try and hide from the end of the world. But I am young and passionate enough to believe that my heroes are giving good answers.

I will do my best to fill in the blanks in chronological chaos.

there were tricks to getting out without making sound.

we felt like paradise had to be more, more than what it already was, which was really already quite sincerely enough.

But even the best of us forgot how to see a thing hurting. Even good people knew how to turn bad touch and genocide into clichés just to make room for more comfort.

we have now been accounted for and it is written on our empty graves that After everything still I stayed. And I mean it. I stayed. I stayed. I stayed.