I don't want
to keep running from my problems.
I want
to stop getting high every time I feel any form of
guilt
remorse
sadness
anger.

I want to stop whining
and I want to start doing.

I want to think about flowers
and French music
and I want to think about you
but I can't and I hate myself for that.

I hate that I created all my problems
and here you are,
the most lovely human being I've ever met
and you didn't do anything to deserve your problems
and I can't ******* help you with them.
I can't help you with them
because I get high anytime a negative doubt lingers
and I get drunk if I can't sleep
and I cry if I'm out of ***** or dope
and I really really like you and I only want whats best for you
and I want to do everything I can to make you happy.
I want to pick you ten thousand flowers,
all of which will pale in comparison to you,
and I want to write you ten thousand poems,
none of which will be as grand as yours,
and I want to give you ten thousand kisses,
because you deserve them
and ******* it,
I like kissing you.

Above I said that I can't, but I lied.
I can, I will, I am.
I'm getting better

it's refreshing, isn't it?
the cool ocean breeze
the sand beneath my feet
a breath of well-deserved happiness
a sigh of needed relief

i've been thinking about you a lot lately
you've been very good for me
you take only what's given
and expect nothing more

sure, it'd be nice to see this go somewhere
but it doesn't have to
i'm happier than a clam
(and clams are very happy)

right now you're a comforting place
a trip to the ocean
the sand beneath my feet
and that's okay

it's refreshing, isn't it?

you consider me pretty
i know because you've told me
several times before
i know because i've felt you
react to me

i know you would have never loved me
even if you thought you could
(which you didn't)
i wasn't ruined enough

your own sadness must be complemented
compared
with mine
i wasn't ruined enough

someone whom i thought was your friend
pulled me aside
because she thought you might
and she chose to warn me
but you didn't
i wasn't ruined enough

but you will never really know how ruined
tarnished
*****
used
filthy
i truly am

you will never really know how he
whispered to me
breathed on me
pressed on me
pressured me
complimented me
insulted me
threatened me

touched me


i find it incredibly insulting
that "emotionally damaged"
has become attractive
romanticized
wanted
by guys like you

i don't see any benefits to your existence
you are a waste of space
i don't want you in my life
you are an awful excuse for a man

"but he is your father
and he loves you"
has become overused

you are not the man of my childhood
he would never have said
or done
the things you have
where is he?
where are you?

four pink, three blue, five yellow, two green
i don't know how you manage to make it seem
so easy
to get up in the morning
to go to sleep at night
to sleep soundly
to do your job
everything you're supposed to
i don't know what i'm meant to do

four pink, three blue, five yellow, six green
what is it all supposed to mean
i didn't ask to be here
i have no effect
no purpose
nothing more than another girl
who writes a lot

five pink, four blue, six yellow, eight green
never really been too keen
never good, no good
useless, worthless
and sad

For being being high and
way too cool,
we're sentencing you to
an eternity in hell.*

Down here, they got nothing to sell,
and even if they did, sell it they would not.
I was banished, sent down here to rot,
got a dude shooting up,
staring at me with a lot of snot
dripping from his nose,
nobody is telling him where his little sister goes,
cause if they did, shoot it they would not,
he's the guy with the dope
and dope talks
(and nobody walks).
He gets what he wants when he wants it
and if you were to tell him his little sister
****** your **** for junk you bought from him,
brother I'm afraid you'd never smell roses again.

Not that you would,
there's a terrible lack of pretty things
just poetry, and rap songs to sing.
Knock on wood, cause you got what I don't,
smoke it while you can,
cause I will if you don't.

Oh ****,
I'm bad at rhyming,
please step outside while I prepare a hit
of something strong.
Boy its been too long
since I stuck that needle in my arm.
A ****** in need
is a ****** indeed,
and oh ****,
that's just plagiarism,
you'll let it slide, this ain't ******* journalism,
just keep your mouth shut and believe in my cynicism.
Watch out though, don't get overwhelmed by your egotism,
oh ****, that ain't fair
rhyming ism with ism
but boy, life ain't fair.

My father told me what I had to do,
you gotta think long and hard
about why the sky is blue.
Broken bottles produce glass shards,
all out of junk, better sniff some glue.
When I first started using nobody said it would be this hard,
hell nobody said anything at all. except for you.

Now I'm just desperate searching my vocabulary,
accidentally stuck the needle right through my capillary,
I want blood and money: My Life As A Teenage Mercenary.
Don't worry, they got the good **** down at the apothecary,
make you so high you can fly like a fairy.

I must be bored, nothing I'm saying makes any sense,
no please don't show my sister, she might call me dense,
she'll remove the shrouds, destroy all the pretense.
Robbing my moms purse, scrounging up a few cents.
Hell if I had any sense I'd stop writing now,
call God and return him his crown,
but he's uptown and I'm downtown,
a sad clown
a dad frown
a mad ballgown.

The higher I get the closer to God I become.
I can feel him, coursing through my veins.

I promised you I would get sober
but you left

although i'm still having dreams about him,
you're what i thought about
when i first woke up

i hope that's okay

the boy you love is in your bed and
he is shaking

you wonder if it will always be like this,
tremors through his arms and legs, or if this
is only because he is wrapped in sheets that
smell like someone else.  so you offer him a bowl,
partly to calm him down but mostly because
when he takes a drag he cups his hands and
bows his head and it looks to you like he is
praying and his hands are still shaking and you
wonder if he has faith in anything and if not
maybe that thing could be you

so you clime beside him and you inhale as
he exhales and for a moment he is
                                                                                          still

the boy you love is in your bed and
you are shaking