I wanted to go everywhere with you,
to dive into your past, the beautiful and the *****.
To meet every version of self you have ever been.
I wanted to see your frosting stained smile
on your 8th birthday. To know you when
innocence and hope still reigned.
I wanted to hear your midnight laughter on an
ordinary Tuesday in California. To sit on the floor in
that apartment that you couldn't afford to furnish.
I wanted to walk hand in hand
through the years of your life.

And when my curiosity had been sated
with endless waves of knowledge of you,
I had hoped you would've liked to
walk through my stories.
To meet the now-gone women
who molded my soul and gifted me with
love and a sarcastic sense of humor.
I wanted you to greedily feast upon all my days gone by.

Armed with an overwhelming acceptance of one another,
I hoped we would embark on a path we forged together.
I dreamt that when I savored pasta in Venice,
I would look up to see you sitting across the table.
I imagined that your smile was the last delight
I would feel before I slowly drifted to sleep in Amsterdam.
I thought the next time I dove under a salty wave,
It would be you at my side.

I wanted to experience every taste, every touch
and every breath with you standing next to me.
For, life was more beautiful with your hand in mine.
You were my welcome rose-colored glasses,
now laying shattered on the floor.

Without you I see the world in
all of its harsh grotesqueness.
Without your cloud of sweetness,
My past pain and horror yet unknown
have taken on new strength.

I now only wish to travel back to the time,
when I thought I had a chance with your heart.

It needs to just leave me alone.
Let me sleep.
Leave me with thoughts of love.
Not thoughts of panic.

Welcome to my Panic Room.
Where instead of sleep,
Thoughts of terror come into play.
And I can feel the swelling of my throat;
As if I were allergic to the tragedy.
My heart beats as if it were a horse race.

Welcome to my Panic Room.
Where a bed lay in the center.
One I wish to sleep upon and dream of fearing nothing.
Yet I sit in the corner;
All curled up to protect myself from the monster that's coming.
Only to realize, every time,
The monster is inside me.

I should tell you I pull away from hugs that last longer than 3 seconds.
I should warn you that my anger gets the best of me when I start to feel something.
It takes me awhile to adjust.
You're gonna have to be patient with me.

I know it may be hard to understand but my heart lets go before it even gets a grip.
I may not talk alot about my life but know that I am trying.
I  have been hurt so much before.
Try to be patient with me.

I've been down this road before and it left me with scars
so don't fret when my body tenses up when you grab my hand.
I'm starting to learn that the touch from a man isn't always full of empty promises and hurtful intentions.
You're gonna have to learn to be patient with me.

"Are you Okay?"
I'm not even sad.
"So what are you?"
God, I make myself mad.

Yeah, that's what I am,
I'm angry, *"At what?"
Shut up! If I knew…
"Lots would change. Not."

Maybe that's what I need.
"A change, that'll work."
Exactly, and if I'm lucky,
It'll wipe off your smirk.

"I'm not laughing."
Not at me, with me, correct?
"Well not exactly."
You understand that you're in my head?

That's it. It's all in my head.
"Except the scars on each inch of your skin."
That's different, I had to feel…
"Feel what? To what end?"

Feel SOMETHING! Anything…
"Anything at all?"
Yes. "And what if you don't?"
Upon the floor I will crawl.

Crawl into a hole.
"A hole in the ground?"
And have it filled up with dirt,
Never to be found.

"You're giving up."
I'm living all wrong.
"You're pathetic."
**So they've been right all along.

A little boy is afraid of darkness. To overcome the fear, he decides to lock himself in a room full of darkness. Everyone else will obviously think he's crazy not knowing the reason for his actions. If and when he finally decides he's not scared of the dark anymore and he's ready to go out, it'll take him a long while to adjust to the light outside of the room. Or worse, he'll decide he likes the dark better than the *light.

Mirror Mirror on the wall
What have I done
To deserve this all

Mirror Mirror on the wall
I can't take it anymore
They just wanna see me fall

Mirror Mirror on the wall
You'll see me on the floor
Mirror Mirror on the wall
I don't want to be your doll