You **** me in different ways
But I'd still choose you
Because you break my heart like no one else does

I look into myself and see only an accumulation
of lost objects
Piles of beautiful, forgotten documents
unusable
but loved for what they are
I am the words on a tea-stained music sheet
that mean nothing
and yet
you turn them over eternally in your mind
because there's something about that
sequence of syllables
that makes them
irresistible.
Look at my shelves and see my soul
Repeat my words and learn my essence,
Home is knowing who you are.

Pulsating pressure, provoking a pandemonium of preconceived panic.

A mind of mush, intertwined within the stroke of tension and resilience.

An urge to fast forward, to leap over the walk way that flattens my belonging.

Dishearted. Dismayed. Tired. Tired of imperfections. Impressions imploding on the intangible beings of the Id.

This is for you,
You who felt like the world was trying to smother you out of existence,  
you who felt the pressure to be the same even though we are all different,
you who was ridiculed and abused because of something you could not control,
you who needed to be free even as you were caged and shackled,
you who felt invisible and alone,
you who felt the need to apologize for who you were,
you who felt the pain was to much to bear,
you who felt the need to take a blade to your skin,
you who tried to numb the world into a blur,
you who were left broken and shattered,
You are a part of me as much as i am a part of you,
You who denied those who tried to bring you down,
you who defied gravity and took flight,
you who found yourself in the mist of despair,
you who are different and proud,
you who are once again whole,
you who found love in the end,
I am you and you are me,
This is for you...