I'm not good at taking care of the people I love.
I can make a cup of tea, but I will still hand it to you
with shaking hands,
hands that want to strangle the illness out of you.
I can tuck a person in at night, but I will begin living out
a nightmare,
a nightmare that begins as soon as I extinguish the light and take my mask off for the day.
I can go to the doctors office, but my brain will process any form of news as negative,
news that flaunts around a stage and presents optimism,
will still reinforce that the end is near, that a show cannot last forever.
I can go to a prison, or a house and visit, but I will tremble with anger at the situation, maybe direct it at a person who is chained both physically and mentally.
I can continue to walk through the normal motions of life, but I will be triggered,
triggered by the thought of losing the ones I care for most, by the fact that I will never do enough, say enough, be enough, and when I do it will be the ugliness of a disease spreading in me, a cancerous trauma that I have lived with my whole life.

Jesus has risen.
But what else?
The sea level, and it was already up to my chest.
My blood pressure, and the screaming just made it worse.
A desire to vanish, and in a more permanent way.
For a moment I envied being an absent God to people.
I would feel their love, and they would know that they are loved,
yet they wouldn't need to
hear me,
see me,
feel me,
smell me,
or taste me
to believe in the overflowing love I possess for everyone but myself.

You decided to find someone better,
My stomach drops before I've even met her.
I bet she stands as tall as the redwood trees,
with just the right amount of confidence and ease.

I knew I was never your first choice,
but I've always hoped you would hear my voice.

It's a voice so soft, with a message so heavy,
and the weight of this message leaves the grave as my levee.

I need to get myself out of this
California hell
Cause there’s a fire burning in my lungs

I know I was born and raised to love these long and hot summer days
And I know you’ll always be my blood

But I’ve never,
thought about the rest of the world
And i’ll never grow if
I’ve never really felt the cold

I hope that you can learn to love yourself, after what you did to me.
Cause I know you well and I know that thoughts can overwhelm,
And you're not getting over me.

You lit the match, you pulled the trigger.
You ****** it up again,
I don’t feel bad, and I’m not bitter,
So do what you do best.

I’m counting on myself, to get out of this house, this hell you call a home? What a ******* joke.
You’re never even here, and when you are, you're passed out on the kitchen floor.
I’m not the type of girl, who wants to settle down, I’ll leave your heart behind in another town
I’m not the type of bird, who flies home to a nest, every night until her timely death.

If I were a bird, I’d fly far away, I’d never look back, never let myself stay
In one place for long, because it gets boring
And I’d rather be soaring high, like a swift in the sky,
A thief in the night, but

the only thing I'm stealing is my freedom now.
And the only way I'll get it is to leave this town
I don't have much time, I'm not planting seeds here
Im just trying to fly.