my heart was an open book
full of blank sections
and searching for meaning
I filled it with questions

I looked for connections
or some explanation
I looked for letters
and I found punctuation

I prefer the arts to anything with a consciousness really, because it never once made me feel like less, not like people do

I fell for you, not like leaves fall from a tree, in swift moves until they reach the ground they seek
Maybe it feels more like a trap, running in circles cause I **** at reading maps
Tip-toeing obstacles as I dare them to collapse
Let me be trapped
Hold on and consume me like a fly caught in a spiders web
Pick at my self doubt until boldness
is all that I have left

I´m impulsive and naive
sometimes loud and sometimes
  silent
 I lie when I can
 And then hide from the pain
 Often run when I could walk
 But my body likes to
  stop.
 I will scratch you and fight you though
   sometimes
    invite you
I´m on fire and I´m drowning but mostly
 I'm waiting for the inbetween