Stuck between falling and climbing. I'm tired of knowing truths that don't line up with being me. Picture this room- crowded and worn, messy with glass from broken hearts. I watched them come and go. I knew the risks they took, and just like that,
*I took them too.

GOD IS NOT DEAD
LOVE IS NOT GONE
I AM STILL HERE
STILL FIGHTING ON

I am wounded
By the world and by myself
Thinking too much and hurting too deeply
I never did figure out how to heal.

I am wounded by the planes and the oceans
That go on even when I am lost between them.

What I’ve seen is no excuse to stop living
Yet why have I done exactly that?
I am wounded
And I am afraid that no doctor can save me now.

If I said that I was broken
Would you believe me?
Would you find a way to leave me?
I am wounded
And I am shattered by the glass left on the floor.
Too many pieces to pick up
Too many cuts to care.

I am wounded by the receding tide
That promised to come again in the morning.
I am hurt because it never did
Not while I was there.

I am wounded
The words have left me dry.
Now I am
Stumped by a world that forgot I was here.

It wasn't that I was lost
It wasn't that I was found
It wasn't about my falling
Until I hit the ground.

I remember what it felt like
To fall.
I remember the rain on my face
And the wind whipping through my hair.
I remember the way my heart dropped into my stomach,
How I felt so unsafe
But secure.
Just the swirling clouds to drop me,
the ground that sped towards me,
the people that tried to stop me-
Then you.
Then you caught me.

Elaine, Elaine, with no last name.
I can still hear them. Turns out I'm just really good at listening.
Identity, Identity, Identity. Who are you? Where do you come from? What's your name?
Three of the world's easiest questions and I didn't have an answer for any.
Elaine, Elaine, she's quite the shame, that sad little girl with no last name.
They tell me I'm seventeen. What do they know? They know what I know; not a **** thing.
Elaine, Elaine, she's all to blame, that shame of having no last name.
Maybe it wasn't my fault. But then again, maybe it always was.
Elaine, Elaine, down the drain, she's the one that's all to blame, she's the one that bears the shame
of having lost her own last name.