I learned to sleep
   with the constant scratching
at my window pane-
   unnerving though, It got.

Tap, tap, tap
   the evergreen raps
its boughs on my glass
    rap sharp

almost breaking it
    I hide beneath my pillow.
I barricade under
    my blanket.

Screaming silent,
    imagining again,
your fingernails
     down  my back.

Almond colored
   not really
light, not really dark
salty slightly sweet.

sharp, cheddar
  soft, edible
pliant forgiving

Day into
  years

Tears remembered
shed
when you are far
away.

The feeling is creeping up my throat
It makes my toes tingle and burn
This rage, this sickness, this aching
That wells inside of me
I'm screaming silently
Can anybody hear me?

They don't tell you you're ******* insane
Until you outline your detailed plans to
Jump off of a building and land face down
On a one way train to Hell

When all you want is the voices that penetrate your every thought
To shut their lying mouths
Because if people could hear the things that you tell yourself
Day after day, night after sleepless night
They would have you arrested for cruelty and terroristic threats
All you want is peace and silence, just for once in your fifteen years of living.

Then, they start to rethink it
Then, they start to consider the possibility that you are not alright
And your brain is spinning and spinning and spinning
Until the dizziness is too much for your mental state
And you begin to crumble beneath their feet.

This is what happened to me
Is it what happened to you?
I miss you like crazy
The ones you left behind are still reeling
At the thought that your wound was never bandaged enough
To save your beautiful and creative mind
Your outlook on all of these tragedies inspired us to be more than human beings

And now?
We're utterly and terribly lost
In this world with no direction
Because our road maps have been tainted with blood stains and stigma

Nobody talks about it
Until it happens to them
The pain, the agony, the discontentment that comes with
The notion that you could not have saved someone
But the wish that had they stayed around
They could have saved you

And now we're the ones
Giving other people the classic Ted Talks and using
Every textbook psychology lesson you learn during your freshman gen. ed. class
"Suicide is never the answer"
"If I overcame it, you can too"

So am I just supposed to get better overnight?
I can't talk about where I am in recovery because
If I tell people that there are still times when hanging from a noose
Over the side of someone's deck somewhere
Sounds better than continuing to live in this half *** world that doesn't give a **** about me
I'd be telling the truth
But nobody wants to hear that truth.

The disappointment that flooded my parents' faces when they heard the words
"I don't want to be here anymore"
Was too much for me
And facing that kind of disapproval again
Would leave me reeling.

So now, kids all around the world face
What I face everyday
A choice as to
Grin and bear it
Or show the gritty, less than glamorous side effects of recovery
And of relapse.

Kids around the world
The survivors
The attempters
The cutters
The addicts
Are screaming
I'm not insane, I'm human
I'm not crazy, I'm recovering
I'm not an illness, I'm me.

They thought the world was flat
And no one could say different
But what they " knew " turned out
Wrong so they actually didn't,

And I use this as a catalyst til
I question everything annoyed
Until I question my own sanity
Realizing I now look paranoid

But I know I'm not insane,
But taking into account
What I have already said than
I may belong locked up in a nut house

So now I find I question myself
Full of doubt until at last
I don't trust any decision i make
Based on Facts that may not b facts

Obsessed with knowing wut I lack
Which is everything I assume
Maybe I belong in a padded room
That I wont believe is a padded room

Leaving me frustrated and confused
And the only conclusion now left
Is everything is not what it is or
everything is wut it is to some effect

Unless its not, cuz then it's not
But then again maybe it is
So my parents get mad when I ask
if I'm adopted and go blood test my kid

Thinking all Facebook is
Is a social network but what if
It was designed to be addictive and
harmless just to keep us on the grid

What if the chicken ***** really is
Made out of cats and kittens
So u think eating a cat is nasty
when maybe they r ****** delicious

But I would think it was chicken
So ill never know what I know
How can u know what u don't know
If u don't know what u know

Maybe a turtles so fast it's slow
Maybe ****** was a saint
Could u argue its not possible after
Seeing This whole picture I paint

And no I'm not saying history books
Are wrong, at least not tonight
I'm just saying my minds playing games
so may not believe its all right

And now I see why I just might
Be happy ignorant for the bliss
So my new goal is too try my hardest
to be ignorant as ****

Which some may say I already
Am, as to them that's what I show
But remember before u say I am
U better ****** question wut u know!

My throat is full of untimely secrets
So many admissions I need to throw up
And paint his wooden floorboards with
Because that’s where I used to find my voice
Lying next to his stacks and stacks of paperbacks
And scrunched up t-shirts
And now the only time I talk loudly
is when he lets me sleep in his room surrounded by
Old rock and roll posters half torn down in adolescent rages
And his grandfather’s books with their fractured spines and ripped out pages.
It is in the early hours
When he says to me
‘There are too many holes pierced into your body.
I think if I poured my love into you
It would just seep right through’
For once, silence is crucial.
Because I do not own enough replies to explain the fragility of my blood vessels when they understood what he meant.
It sent an electric shock through my entire ****** system and that was how my throat stopped shaking.
The need to uproot every good bad cruel volatile imploding exploding loving frustrated string of sentences left me after that.
I can’t go back to the semi and collapse on his floor anymore.
Lying down there has become lying everywhere.
And my voice box is no longer prepared for it.