full circle
I'm laying here with the window open listening to the rain for secrets or something or waiting for you to tell me what you haven't been telling me
like maybe there really is a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair and her eyes are the kind of blue that is never mistaken for grey
she touches your chin before she kisses you, real softly or maybe she traces the spot above your lip where we all know angels rested their fingers before we were sent down here to rot or thrive
maybe you talk about gardens with her, how you'd never ever own an orchid cause that ***** ex of yours demanded one every hospital visit
how flowers aren't for boys but you'll pretend to watch football while you're really watching her bend down to touch the dirt like she used to smooth her baby brothers hair out of his little eyes
before their parents decided that it was more convenient to buy them a little apartment and keep money in the safe while they spent their pensions in Florida watching alligators and Dolphins and toucan ******* Sam but never at the same time
you see, I don't drink earl grey cause it tastes like fruit loops
and I don't eat fruit loops cause it tastes like the childhood I erased from my memory by forcing myself to dissociate
maybe this, is something else altogether
maybe this... is not true, another delusion, maybe your hands are busy counting change out for cardboard signs
maybe your feet move a little bit faster, not because you're in a rush to see someone who isn't me but because you're so scared of ending up back where you started

I sit on the step
And draw
The cold around me
Like a blanket,
Savouring the numbness
And the heat
That begins within.
Swallowed by the night
Drunk on wine
And stars.
Hot tears on cold cheeks.
Seasoning for
Chapped lips
Stinging
Bringing fresh tears.
I take refuge
In the silence,
Under the gaze of
Sympathetic eyes.
My friends.
My constant companions.
Drunk on wine
And stars.

I watched my innocence disappear at 13 years old as my clothes also disappeared all because a senior boy was stronger than me.  I remember begging to call my mom, but he couldn't hear me over his ******* moans.  I scrubbed my body til it bled everyday for two months.  I remember my mother would always tell me I am full of cities.  They caught on fire that year.  I watched them burn to the ground.

Lately, I've been better shutting off the alarm clock come 6 AM than I have been shutting off my wretched mind. I'm 19, but soon enough the bags under my eyes will give my young skin another 10 years.  My mind is aging faster than it should and I don't have wrinkles yet, but if my mind doesn't stop folding and unfolding all my flaws, well, I'm sure that will take it's toll too.  I can't focus on anything aside from trying not to focus on the only clear thoughts my brain spits out... It's been cold for weeks. My face is always blotchy, but I can't tell if it's from the change in weather or constant changes in emotions.  I couldn't tell you what I've had to eat the past few days, or if I've even ate at all.  It's just like my mind to play tricks on me.  In fact, I know my head is trying to **** me.  I'm never reminded when to eat... and if I am? Well, what goes down must come up.  Food always looks best the second time around.  I never sleep, my mind is a constant turntable stuck on repeat.  The vinyl consists of all my flaws... All that I am not, or where on my body I am too much.   I'm always driving through the country, on that empty road, where nobody could tell my story.  All I can see is that big ditch to the left, or that big oak tree my little car would look so pretty twisted around... Oh, is that an animal I'm about to hit? Is that animal really there? Or is that my mind playing an evil trick on me, so I can feel better about swerving off the road? I don't care. I don't care.