unsure of what to say
in a cryptic state,
the balancing beam of
appearing happy while
still being me,
the jaded queen of
uncertainty

I begged for this
and I have it now,
and already I have
saturated it in
self-doubt

My head pounds with the
course of one night's gin
(and a thrown-in whiskey sour)
and I realize this town isn't for me
any longer.

the fear is starting from scratch
nothing from the past
eating away at me
weighing me down so
I can't be happy
I leave it behind
and close the page
what I need is
not simply a new chapter
but a whole new book
a whole new place

I am the gaping hole in your heart
you pour your insecurities into
full-force, I am your canyon.

I am the one you want when
you don't know what it is you want,
and I am to the brim
with your own past

And I still come back with my
Addiction for affection because
I need to keep the void
filled until I can't remember
what my own baggage is for

"The lonely stoner seems to free her mind at night"
the words echo through the halls of an
empty brain
A stereo plays the anthem of the ***-smoking archetype
But it's reality: Can she free her mind
if there's nothing that's tied down?

March, meek, bends its head
half-heartedly mumbles "I'm back"
with an admirably early gust of
mild spring wind
and I wish for it to pass
until summer can take grasp
and the grey clouds spread to reveal
the sky bluer than I have ever seen before

when you care more about
your loved one's emotions
than your own happiness
you write a cataclysm of
drunk poetry that reveals your sense of
giving too much of a ****
deep beneath the brainwaves of your
***** mind
saturate your own feelings with
their happenings
let your body leave its
chemistry and make like
you have too much Empathy
but really you're doing nothing more than
living Vicariously