Sometimes I am barely a person.
Just a walking, talking doll, waiting for instruction.

I feel like a faraway dream.
Just waiting for them to give or take my autonomy.

The only time I can feel for myself
is when I'm manic, in panic, screaming for help.

When I'm in this place, it is spiritual.
Death waits patiently, anticipating at my door.

So far from reality, lost in a place of need.
Feed me your attention and pull on my leash.

Awaiting that moment of truth, that moment to prove
You've never meant a thing to someone who's ever been close to you.

It's that moment when you really get through
Through to your head that you've always been right, and they'll never need you.

The way that you do, and you always knew
That the last time you hurt was the worst, but this moment is too.

You never get to fix what's askew
Never realize you're slipping, how close to the edge you've come to.

The manic ensues, if only you flew
The torment I feel in this moment is flooding my veins coursing through.

I forget your eyes blue, freeze up,  statue
Feeling your warmth melt away forgetting how it ever used to

Completely subdue, make me anew
How come I feel you aren't there when I'm longing, and I most need you?

It's a trick it's a rouge, you have to construe
I only need you when ever you're gone and I start to unscrew.

After love you's, crumpled tissue
I feel you should never leave me but the fall then may take me from you.

I crave spirituality.
Causing me this dichotamy.
Give me the feeling of stealing my autonomy.

Can you help make me feel alive?
I know how to bring me to life.
Like when I'm crying and dying at night's when I thrive.

I would like to feel warm inside.
Feeling mooshy and gooshy like
When I feel unsafe, feel your hate, leave me to die.

Sometimes I feel like I'm burning.
Why do I love to be hurting?
Your attention is life. Pain and strife always flirting.

You keep hitting me.
It's because I'm so tough.
It's because I am weak and small enough.

You keep teasing me.
It's because I'm so pretty.
It's because I'm different, and you think that's ugly.

You keep touching me.
It's because I'm hot and confident.
It's because I am young, and I don't know consent.

You keep hurting me.
It's because you care so much.
It's because I care that you stare and you touch.

You keep pushing me.
It's because I'm all in your head.
It's because you might actually want me dead.

You keep grabbing me.
It's because you love my hand in yours.
It's because you like to hear me choke.

I keep fighting back.
It's because I love you so.
It's because I'm trying everything to cope.

I am just a child,
and I am just a fawn.
I am just a lamb,
and I am just a pawn.

I am just a petal,
and I am just a piglet.
I am just a pillow,
and I am just a twig.

I am just a cloud,
and I am just a dream.
I am just a candy,
and I am just a cream.

I am just a pebble,
and I am just a worm.
I am just the dirt,
and I will never learn.