You know that feeling after you've downed a drink when you find youself breathing a little quicker

That's how it is being with you.

I'm drowning at the bottom of your glass, always gasping, breathless
Struggling for air after another swig of your emotion
But you're still oblivious, clinking your glass under the false pretense of giving Cheers

All I seem to do anymore is
cry
      and sleep
                     and cry
                                  and think.
The thinking is horrible.

Worse than any salty tear
burning the cuts you left on my cheek
from your razor blade lips.
                                     ◇
All I seem to do anymore is
pass out
            and dream
                               and pass out
                                                    and scream.
The screaming is horrible.

Not because my vocal chords are straining to keep up with my upsurge of emotion
But because it sends a shudder through me  every time the illegible shouts start to sound like your name

I love others so much more than I love myself; it kind of disheartens me at how much I would give to others than I would ever to myself.
I wouldn't be able to stand it knowing that someone else is in pain or is hurting but when it comes down to me.

I'm fine.
- a.c

You told me to descibe myself using metaphors.
I thought about this for a long time.
I am.... what? What am I?
I could go for the classic "plastic bag in the wind" but that even made me gag
I was just about to tell you some faux banality to sate your mind when it hit me

I am a metaphor.

I am a metaphor, never quite literally meaning what I say.

They tell you to smile all the time
But then wonder why the hell you're smiling all the time, saying it makes you look suspicious

They tell you to tilt your head and you'll see things a little bit different
But then wonder what the hell is wrong with your neck

They tell you to speak your mind
But then wonder why the hell you're not shutting up

They tell you it's okay to be different
But then wonder why the hell a guy's wearing make up

They tell you to follow your dreams
But then wonder why the hell you're always sleeping

They tell you to stand up for what you believe in
But then wonder why the hell you refuse to sit down

They tell you all these goddammed double standards
But then wonder why the hell you don't listen