Ever-conscious of the cage,
We take comfort in our cells.
Dreaming of escape,
But making no attempt to free ourselves.

There's a knock on the door
From cool October
Could someone please her in

Holding a bucket of leaves
Picked from colorful tress
All set for Falls decorating

For October she knows
November is close
With a sac on his back full of Winter

As she scurries about
Knowing times running out
It won't be long before he gets here

So she spreads all her leaves
With the greatest of ease
Giving the ground much need cover

For when November let's go with a laugh
Of his cold Winter sac
Saying goodbye to October

today i dreamed that you were ******* me
and then i fell back asleep and dreamed i was ******* myself
and this girl down the hall was saying "it was just middle school"
as everyone looked at her scars and I was thinking
wow I'm glad I thought it through and only cut myself on my legs and hips because who would want the attention of ******* wrists
and it really was just in the past,
then this girl named maria tried to relate saying oh her boyfriend accidentally cut himself when he was drunk trying to cut pizza
so the blonde one said, "that's not really the same thing"
and I continued sitting on the floor, thinking
who the **** are these people
thinking her scars seemed awfully small, does she ever feel embarrassed that they're not bigger,
thinking wow why did I think that, that's not appropriate at all
but if they were on her wrist anyway-
and self-harm isn't cutting pizza
or comparable with scar size
self-harm is just the embarrassing middle-school *******
we're stuck living with
and when you can't see the scars,
it's still in the back of your head when the girl with the big glasses says, "wow that's so sad"
and the girl says,
"no it's okay, it was all in the past."