Life is just a series of rooms
You spend time in
full of all the people
You shot grams or
smoked a dime with.
Full of all the people
You laid next to
to rest your head.
Full of all the people
Who would end up dead.
Life is just a series of questions
You gotta answer to.
Like how did God decide
On All the people
He gave cancer to?
Why some things you never had
Will be the best you'll never have?
Why all the good things in life
Gotta Hurt so bad?
Rooms full of questions in my head.

We all take pain
In its purest form
Straight to the vein
Tattered and worn
We are reborn

They say Saints are only sinners
Who kept on trying
But we're all dying
Trying to lick the sore

There is no good
No bad
There is No right
no wrong
We are what we are
Don't judge where we belong.

it is what it is.
And We all bleed.
Sounds like Equanimity
To me.

Read me with your eyes
Dictionary of silence
Pry me open past my lies
Past my anger and violence

A tiny girl who wants to cry
And watch the world pass by
Steady waiting for the ****
Like I was born with a license

To **** my self
Watching my dignity fall down
From its shelf
Up In my mind
Too busy chasing vanity,***, and wealth.

"The next feel good
Will be REAL good"
I kept telling myself.
But I was creepin to the deep end
Seeking death with a stealth.

Ignorance is bliss
and that's why you got the blues, baby.
Takes a lot of pain;
knowing better while you lose.
We all get straight, one day,
Or we get dead.
In discontent; by old age.
By ******. By lead.
Just remember, Like I said,
It's not their ignorance you choose.
You got them gettin better blues, baby.
gettin better blues.

Changing molds
so i can force myself
through a you shaped hole.
I cut myself Down
to the image that I think you see in me.
In the mirror I can't see myself,
Much less imagine actually being me.

Who am I?
Well, This is it.
I'm a mess and a misfit.
the one who's got it figured out
but really doesn't know ****.
I'm the people pleaser
who never gets what she desires
and then wonders why the emptiness continues to transpire.
I like to deny the fact that I'm a liar.
I like to create
comfortable places in my head
where feelings can go unfelt
and things can be left unsaid.

Just a million little pieces.
My faces.
switched off and on in different places. Different phases.
A million little pieces of you
and every one I knew.
Now I can't find who I am.
Just what I was in my memories.
I can't decide who i was
ever even trying please.

At ease.
I pray for God
to break me down to my core.
To give me strength to stand up
For the things I love and adore.
To never hide behind lies,
sit back and slip
Right through your fingertips.
To be true to my soul
and really start to exist.

i lie when i don't need to.
i steal when i don't have to.
i'm always thinking when i shouldn't.
i eat
drink
sleep
smoke
****
when i dont want to.
its just me feeling like i have to
fill this void because i need to.
but i shouldnt.

i'll eat till i throw up and then admit i still want more.
i'll drink so much i won't get up for days.
i'll sleep all night or not at all.
i'll smoke, snort, shoot all i can take till i go dumb.
psychotic.
numb.

i'll do it
over and over
and YES!
ill do it, all the time.
and every time
that i don't want to
i'm just so certain that i have to
fill this void
splitting me open
till i die.

Truth is

you make me wanna be honest.

Haven't felt that in the longest

time.

I'm a dogs toy and hes got me
ripping at the seems.

I say
its from innocent play.
That's what I like to believe.

Don't trust me.
I'm a dogs toy.
I cannot see.

Hes got my little button eyes
chewed out.

things are better
or i stopped looking.
whatever it is
its working

except the feelings are less 'feely'
dull if you ask me.

maybe just familiar with the pains
so they go unnoticed, un-noted.

chasing my tail
in circles of ongoing obligations

and im much less than satisfied.

I start to write.
I get the taste in my mouth
like I'm high again.

I forget to breathe.
I hold my breath
and feel my heart beat
in my skin.

Staring past the spaces.
My vision growing thin.

My mind
paints my face
with a grin.

Unsettling in.

When I write
feels like I'm high again.

I used to curse the ground I walked on

I'm so glad you came

Stepped into this world alone

to leave it just the same

though it sure is nice

here with you.

Wouldn't think twice

to be here

with you.

I am addicted to dying.
for I've forgotten how to live.

I'd have the devil sell me back my soul
I just don't think he works that way.

By now the eyes of god are crying,
and i'm settling in to stay.
somethings got to give.
I feel I'm giving up
on me.

i cant live.
i cant forgive.
and i don't pray.
no use in trying

now

that I'm so used to dying,
Still I'm crying out for something to believe

in

something barely thick enough
to dissolve away my sin

off of my sleeves.
I wear it on display
in hopes you'll stop me on my way
down.
before the leaves
of my clandestine life turn grey:
from green
yellow to brown.

and I should pray
but no use in trying
now

that i'm so used to dying.
All i have now is a daily reprieve.

i am addicted to dying.
can't remember how to live.

i'd have the devil sell me back my soul
i just don't think he works that way.

by now the eyes of god are crying.
somethings got to give.

cant live.
nothing to give
and i don't pray.
no use in trying.

so used to dying.

I discover something lovely
and rush to try and make it a part of me,
claiming suddenly I'm lovely as I could be -
if only I could make it my own.
I'll take it, and I'll break it, and I'll make it
into one of the songs I sing
'bout just how lovely it all would be -
if only I wasn't alone.

I wish to be something I see,
So I take it all and make it all
the song I sing.
Until I'm free to be me,
I'll fake it in the songs that I sing.

Oh, way back when
all the things that could've been
were all the things I couldn't see
in me, in me.
waiting on the time
when I'm ready to cut ties
with all the things that shouldn't be
for me, for me.
I'll keep pretending for so long
it won't be just another song
when I'm free.
When I'm free
to be me.

So I spend a lot of time reading books.
Lovely books about better days.
'bout how to live in these 'better ways' -
If only i could make them my own.
So I take 'em, and I brake 'em, and I make 'em
into one of these songs I sing
'bout how much better my life would be
if only, when I'm finally grown.

Repeating word for word,
regardless if I'm feeling fine
I take it all and fake it for a price.

Line after line,
not every song I sing is mine
but I can't help but think -
Oh, wouldn't it be nice?

I wish to be something i see
so I take it all and make it all
that song that I sing.
Until I'm free to be me
I'll fake it in the songs that I sing.

It won't be just another song
when I'm finally free
to be me.

if i should change, i guess i could
but it only hurts when you love me
would it hurt you? not to love me?
would it hurt you not to care?

i cut myself because it feels good
and it only hurts when you love me.
would it hurt you? not to love me?
would it hurt you not to care?

so used to being misunderstood
still it only hurts when you love me
would it hurt you? not to love me?
would it hurt you not to care?

i hope to die, but i knock on wood.
now it only hurts because you love me.
i'm really hurt that you still love me.
this only hurts because you care.

i hope to die
and i won't feel a thing.
Yes, it wont hurt
if you don't love me.

its bittersweet
but he's so rotten.
I just miss love.
The feeling
not the place and time.
Not HIM.
but just... the thought.
The feel.
at times
all the time..
wondering if I'll see you again
not knowing if I want to.
Just set me back
just pull me down.
into that HOLE.
Remember the one you dug?
When you ****** the whole trust thing
and ****** some one else.
It really ****** with my head
and ****** up my heart.
You keep saying how its sad..
that I cry every day

but I've come to terms with that
and it doesn't change a thing.

Waste not the precious years of life,
With which each mortal man has been endowed.
For the green leaves of youth turn brown,
And God takes back the life that He allowed.

The dictionary of silence.

I'll never have you by hello.
I'll never sweep you off your feet.
Just sip me slowly
like a late night glass of wine.


because this potions got me thinking
we could be made for this.

Going on gut alone
I bet you'd think
that you might keep me
just where you want me

but the gaps you left
blank in my mind
surely didn't go unnoticed
and clearly you didn't know this.

We're in a play
and I'm the poet
or the puppet
who didn't know it

and your the boy
who hung me by my strings
who tried to make a puppet dance
among other things,
the way fools do.

Don't blame me
for losing the feeling
when you leave me
for such periods of time
with nothing to remember.
When you return
don't be surprised
my walls have  raised
and I don't act
like it wasn't hard...
wondering where you'd
gone
what I'd
done
or if I'd see you again.
If not,
would I forget it all
like a bad dream?
Or like a roller coaster
that empties your stomach?
All shaken up
and empty
so when its over
you remember it forever.

Move like a jellyfish
The rhythm is nothing.

It's very confusing, going on like this.
Always changing. Always staying the same.
It starts to make more sense
Once you figure it out.

*******.
All. Every one.
I don't care.
Wish I could just be in my own mind
and not theirs.
Trying to figure with what they think
and how i fit with it.
It's a bunch of *******.
What matters to me is who I am to myself:
without anything, or anyone else.
I'll stick to this state.

I am consistently questioning everything that is me.
I find my self back at square one
more often than not.
so small.
so hopeless.
wandering aimlessly
up, then down, then up again.
what am I missing?
I have to shake this insanity
and stay in the very moment
where i reveal my faith.

Something about today feels like change
But I know nothing ever stays the same.
I feel the past leaving me
like I'm becoming who I've wanted to be.
Feels like forgiveness for myself
for every one who ever hurt me.
Strange things are happening.
Now, I see
strange, great things
and they feel like change.

sometimes the weight of my emotions is so hard to bare.
swerving in and out of conscious thoughts
like i exist in two worlds.
two Me's.
but neither of them know each other.

one of ME has a head full of lies.
believes all that is wrong,
sees only the bad,
and plays a victim.
that Me doesn't want to be happy.
that Me doesn't want to change.

another Me is full of hope.
accepts things for what they truly are,
finds the light in every shadow,
and plays the hero.
that Me couldn't be held down.
that Me is wild and free.

I'm confused in my head.
one side of me is ripping from the other.
my body, an empty stage
where two Me's fight for my next scene.
constantly changing
the way i think, see, and feel
and often times,
i hardly find it possible
for the both of me to meet.
to make one singular connection.
one singular understanding.
one singular idea.
one singular feeling.
for an outsider,
it may be hard to conceive
all the action going on behind my eyes.
i would imagine it'd be hard
for one of them to make
one SINGULAR connection
with one of me,
anyways.