all you had to do was
look and
see
what was right in ******* front of you

i won't ask for help unless i'm certain i can make it on my own
because if i'm not going to, no help will help

i don't talk about my real feelings
i'd rather to pretend to have the ones i should
so why should anyone trust me?
i'm a liar
i'm a good person, but am i? i say i don't judge
but of course i do; this world is too ******
i'm ****** up from the get go
before my real life started, i was destroyed and just when
i was supposed to find freedom
i had to find survival first
i'll never say what i want; i don't think i deserve it
i will not ask for anyone to understand
i always think i've done something wrong
that's a feeling i am used to

i'm supposed to be most dangerous because i know i can survive?
how about -- i'm your weakest link because i am deathly afraid to go back to where i've been?
i'm supposed to know i have the strength
i'm supposed to use what i've been through to my advantage
how about -- you could knock me out with a good plan and a nice final leaving line?
how about -- you could hit me in the face and i would feel, deeply, that i deserved it?
what if i told you i feel that i am the most vulnerable soul walking the earth, and i can barely stand to type it because, well... who is going to use it against me?
they tried to crush me when they thought i was strong.
they did.

My head is heavy
My hands are weak
Guilt on my throat
I can never really speak

My neck can't hold up my thoughts
Jesus Christ, you're all I've got

Never would have let this happen
Too much on the line to lose
But maybe it's better than the other way
Maybe I really needed you

The truth of the darkness is
I carry broken hearts with me
Scars and stars and all kinds of
Bittersweet

But I'll use razor trails as notebook lines
And write a story on my skin
I'm brave and scathed
And I swear I'd do it all again

I ran wild, I didn't hide my emotions, I screamed them and threw them everywhere. If I wanted to do something, I sprinted towards it. I sang my songs so loud and made mix cds and playlists that were so bomb I still have them and listen to them and find comfort in them. I said the words I wanted to say, I fell in love with my own slang and quotes from books and movies and I swore I'd get them tattooed on me. I painted for hours and I sketched the monsters out of my mind. It's funny that I hated me then. They told me I was crazy, I was reckless, I made no sense and I would someday settle down.

I did. I still have urges to paint and I still listen to music like it saved my life, 'cause it did. But I can't get upset and drive off in my ****** car and return 6 days later and tell people they were overreacting for worrying. I'd lose my job and I'd feel bad for making them worry. I guess I'm a grown up now.

The point is, go crazy while you can. I'm not done with my crazy, not by a long shot. I'm leaning on the street sign "20s" and I can't see the end of the road, it's just a horizon of drunken nights and learning experiences and trips all over the country and love so hot you wanna pass out.

"don't let them tell you what to do, how to feel"
No. They are going to tell you, and you can't stop them. It is okay to pretend to listen while you fully know you're gonna do things your own **** way. It's also okay to scream at them to mind their business. It's okay to scream and run and follow your crazy heart, you may never feel it so full of passion again.

whispering words of wisdom, let it be.
let it go, free your hands from your mangled heart, let it heal. in all kindness to yourself, don't go back. you held your breath, even if it hurts to breath again,
it's time to breathe again. lying on the floor in a mess of hungover emotions, so strong you tremble at the mercy of your thoughts. at any moment it could all hit you, you would fall apart in front of all these people you have carefully, manipulatively fed lies of okay-ness. what if it crumbles you? stand back up, because I swear to god if there was one universal truth that I could convince everyone of, it would be, "there is no shame in the truth of emotion." so why am I holding all my feelings and truths like ***** weights? if I believed for myself the things I believe for others, if I just allowed myself to feel the way I accept others do, would I be so messed up? boxed up? maybe if it were for these words, I would explode.
maybe if I went back, changed how I withheld, changed how I gave up, maybe

Oh god

maybe...

There is a recurring guilt instilled in me. I know that it will not ever go away. It will quiet itself with "the past is gone now, nothing can be undone" "you did what you had to" or "don't cry, everyone is mostly okay now"

But then I'm crying myself to sleep with 7 shots as a bedtime story, and I'm listening to all the songs that make my heart hurt and my head numb with nostalgia.

And then I'm doing what I have to do throughout the day - I'm keeping it in and I'm holding on and I'm telling myself it's really gotten better since I last fell apart and I answer my questions with forgetting

Then I'm back in bed. And I'm so close to drifting away from it all but my face is cold and wet because it's winter again and I'm still sad

And then, oh God, I am back four summers ago and I'm wearing my favorite jeans and too many bracelets and I am RUNNING from you. I watch myself leave and I recall every word I put in the goodbye letter and then, I imagine how it destroyed you.. because I ******* promised I would stay

And Jesus Christ I wake up and I know what has happened since and I know that I hurt you when I didn't have to

The ******* guilt is eating me alive again.

I've got a few tethers, each one is stretched. I'm trying so hard to do right.
I've never followed rules, even my own.
It may have been easier alone.
Resistance to give, that's all it is.
But couldn't we just run away from it all and live free,
walk tall and just be?
This is getting a little ******* me..