Heaven is the static between stations
When you are searching for a perfect song
To compliment the sadness, and hell
Is finding only love songs.
Purgatory is the life you envy from afar,
Young lovers captured and posted
From somewhere in L.A,
A name once familiar, just a few
Desks away now in every sad fools
Mouth saying she’s a whore, purgatory
Is believing everything you hear,
A name once yearbook, scribbled,
And forcefully, a name once carved in
a plastic bench and prank called by
Horny little droolers up all night and searching
For the smallest bit of affection in cruel jokes,
A name once familiar and anything to
Everybody now, and they seem to care
More than ever. Surely you don’t believe
L.A is heaven, surely you don’t base everything
From framed pixels, Surely her life is
Hell, surely sometimes she wants to come home.
You want to know hell?
Try having a conversation with someone who
Cant look away from their phone, try
Explaining memes, vines and instagram
To a group of seniors, and try your best
To make it seem important.
Hell is being a click away from family, friends,
Past lovers, events, sex, violence,
Death excitement and possible acceptance,
Yet being so far away. hell is when you
start to believe your feeling it with them
Alone in your basement, hell is believing
That this is as close as you will ever get,
Heaven and hell happen in the worst and best
Possible way when your trying to fall asleep,
Its the worst and most brutally honest feeling
Nobody wants to feel, waking up with
Phone still in hand.