How is it when in the dark of the night
in the silence that it holds
it the stillness of the air
that I can see the clearest
can breathe the easiest
can think the loudest
How I, who used to have two nightlights in my room,
can be so fond of the darkness and the quiet
that used to strap me into bed like a teacher's glare

When I was younger and self-harmed
I often found myself becoming disappointed
that my scars were fading
I didn't want to see the most
interesting thing about me disappear....

I come from a family of alcoholics
so you'd expect me to be such
But I like to believe I'm different
I drink because the thought of being in
reality terrifies me
I'd rather dream
And when I drink
It's like I'm dreaming while being awake
I don't feel
I don't exsist
I know I have a problem
But this dream world of mine is so
tempting
You'd never understand

Sometimes I believe that if I
care for these animals that
it will prove I can
somehow take care of myself

You told me once that you
were lost and just needed
to feel things out but
your hands had been broken

I wish my life were an etch-a-sketch
I wish I could just shake the screen
and have a blank slate
or have at least been born an
artist or a geometrist
so that my life weren't just a series of confused squiggles
because I've never been one to walk in a straight line
and I have no clue where I am or where I'm going.

How do you communicate with
someone who is always going back on their words?
How am I still in love with someone
who only seems to tolerate me?