I'm not sure what to do.
I just keep falling deeper,
and deeper.
Sometimes it's so dark I can't see
my hands in front of me.
I feel like someone is sitting on my chest.
I'm suffocating on nothing
and it's terrifying.
Trying to feel a little,
breathe a little,
live a little.
But are you really living,
if you're expecting death?
If you jump off a cliff
into water,
do you feel the adrenaline
if you're not afraid of
what could happen?
I think this is what dying is.
Not worrying,
or caring.
If you don't give a ****
about anything,
what's your purpose anymore?

Take me away.
I want to feel the wind grabbing,
pulling at my hair
through the open air
on a starry night.

Help me escape.
Let's go to a new town,
change our hair,
answer to Lucy and Iris,
the girls with no past.

Live the way we're supposed to.
In that ****** apartment,
with the one bedroom.
We'll use candles for lights,
and have just the essentials.

Let's make bad choices.
We can fall in love with the rugged,
damaged.
Because if we get in too deep,
we'll just leave again.

We'll just escape.
We can decide on a new town,
change our hair,
and answer to Willa and Alice,
the girls with no past.

I want to feel you, one last time.
Can we go back,
to that Thursday in Autumn?
The leaves perfectly crunched under our heavy feet.
Dazed, confused,
out of touch with reality.
And yet we were so in tune with each other.
With heavy eyelids our pouted lips lightly touched,
feverishly smashed,
and reluctantly broke apart.
I remember the cool breeze nipping at my cheeks,
only to be warmed,
with your soft kisses.

Can we go back, to the weekend in July?
Outside, always outside.
Lungs burning, eyes stinging,
hearts fluttering.
The secret whispers of getting away,
the impossible scenarios,
"But nothing is ever impossible."
Jumping off the bridge,
into the cool water, your hands through my hair.
When were we not touching?
Hands, lips, bodies.
We fit together so perfectly.

I want to go  back,
please, God. Let me go back.
I'm slowly forgetting your soft, warm hands,
Keeping me protected,
being my safe haven.
I don't have that comfort anymore.
Remember our lazy days,
laying on the floor, tangled up in each other?
Sloppiness, romance, fun,
where are you?
"She refuses to believe he's gone."
Rough movements, hands rubbing my sore legs,
the tears wiped away by your thumb.
God, where are you?

I want you to take another hit, another sip,
forget me.

I want you to smoke one more cigarette,
without me.

I want you to lie awake at night, thinking,
of not my face.

I want you to picture someone new,
in my place.

I want you to loathe,
any idea of what was.

I want you to know,
that this is what a broken girl does.

Indulge in your sinful habits,
foggy memories, forgotten nights, take my place.

When you look at me, feel hate.
Or feel nothing, I'm nothing but a basketcase.

For I am lost, in the world of moving too fast, to just moving on.
Stroking your innocence, ignorance.

I want you to take another hit, another sip,
be tempted to forget me, and all my sweet belligerence.