I've been sleeping in odd places
next to a ***** blanket
on the floor of this cold apartment.
I get little sleep because my insomnia
keeps saying ridiculous ****
and its starting to scare me.

I find myself frozen when he asks me
Do you think you know yourself
He tells me I care too much about the answers
I tell him he isn't very good company.
He tells me I try too hard for others
that I'm only going to get my heart broken.
I tell him it's still worth it
He crawls closer to the couch
and impersonates my crying.

I've been sleeping in odd places
next to a confused womanizer
on the bed that can't stop squeaking.
They never look at me directly
they can't afford to find attachment
under these eyes of mine
when it's only the cuffing season

I've been sleeping in odd places
next to my anxiety
on the floor of my mind.  
I'm clutching onto these odd moments
like little snippets of my life
I'm trying to piece myself together
with all the bad that I have done

hurt me if you really want to

you can't turn me off

and I promise
I won't ever say no

there isn't anything my unclean body couldn't bare through gritted teeth
and hyperventilation

I'll have fun,
even if I don't like it
even if I try and cut the ***** memories out

because I really do like the bad feeling

the willing victim.
Stockholm syndrome?
no.
It's not a person.
it's the feeling I can't escape.

I like to hurt
and I like every touch to burn holes in my skin like I do whenever I get sad

I like each word to be sharp and venomous like a cobra
no-  
a boa constrictor, wrapping itself around my tender heart and choking it until the only thing beating is you-

or anyone.
I don't mind.

just make me cry and
I'll do whatever you say.

I don't want to be clean.

I know I'm not the best
but I'm pretty **** impressive

sure, yeah, I used to do those stupid violent things

and I still have those stupid urges to defend myself from an invisible threat
and the sinking feeling won't ever go away

and yeah, I was expelled because I was a bad kid

but I am a good student


I got a C in english.


okay, a C isn't so impressive but hear me out

an unmotivated, unmedicated, angry year 10

who missed every third lesson because

he was hiding from the gunshots he could hear over his literature teacher

crawling out of the classroom on his knees desperately trying to stay safe

curled up on the floor, crying

I thought I had died
or was going to die

I tried to **** myself a couple of days after

and nothing seemed worth it

but I sat down in the canteen

desks arranged perfectly like they hadn't been flipped over and over in fear of the looming threat of failure every ******* day

and I was shaking while I held that pen

and I wrote my stained soul and heavy heart and dried blood onto that test paper

and I got a C.

that C proves I still have worth-
even after all my academic failures.
and now?

I'm medicated, motivated,
dedicated

give me a chance to prove it

I'll be the best risk you'll ever take.

there is something
about that boy
something that leaves you
always wanting more
no
it is not his body
it is his simple presence