i'm sorry i continued to laugh
While Your insides were being ripped
out onto the floor
That day You hated me for
i grew up and hated me more

I wondered if he knew that my soul danced whenever he'd bite his lip and call me his girl
That the concept of myself being his in his head the made sweat form on my collar bones
That the very suggestion that other girls were just labeled other girls but I wore the label of 'his'
Meant that flowers could bloom and die, the sun could set and rise, the wind could blow and subside, but still within and outside
He was mine...

I would embrace myself, but arms are far and few
And though the brisk air of solitude is thick enough to be considered company
I still look out the wondow to see if anyone else is coming
Surely there is a reason for my solidarity, that crept up on me like an armed robber in the dead of night
When one is alone you find yourself is what I've been told
But all I've found was myself crying in the frame of this window for a face to greet and hand to hold

A familiar noise beating in my chest
Sends me laying flat down on the floor counting the cracks in the ceiling
I feel comfort here
wedged between the open air above me
And the solid floor beneath
This is where I've always lived

How is it that I impose my emotions onto another?
Without having it leak through the pores of my fingertips
Through thought I experience myself
But My thoughts barely breach the threshold of the conversation I keep
Though I investigate the lives of others by digging my nails deeply into them
My heart never seems to follow the swaying of their rhythm
So I gather up the parts of me I allowed to explore and make myself up to be a solitary figure
Who only grazes the surface of the world
And I dance within myself
Careful to bump shoulders kindly
To avoid exposing myself as someone who is living apart from the rest of them

I've thought about it,
Time and time again
I've thought about just splitting my chest open and letting myself spill out onto the dinning room table
And just leaving the mess there until its sticky and maroon
But I never do
My biggest fear though,
is not how painful it will be to slice through my own flesh
My biggest fear is that I'll never pick up the knife and actually allow myself to feel it

Put your
Hands up its a stick up
And I'll pull a trigger if you don't let me take the week off
Its my birthday and I'm so ******* sick of
All your **** so I'll lock down and blow your **** off
Put your
Hands up its a stick up
And I pray that this is the way its supposed to be love
Cause if I go ahead and pull this tigger
We might lose everything that you and me was
So I
Show off and blow off
All that steam I have boiling in my colon
I am me, so why the hell would I be somone
Else you think that I will live doubt but
All my wounds are filled with cigarettes and alcohol
So yes indeed
I feel that this little blow up
Is owed to me for eating all of yoyr **** up
So do me favor
***** your behavior
I'm no saviour
I'm here to make you
Put your
Hands up
Its a stick up...