I hear whispered words of defeat
      in a voice made of
         Whiskey
             and
         Blunt Smoke
The voice slurs it's words together into
    an unbroken chain of pessimism
Slowly these chains
    that have been conjured from
       thin air
    start to curl around my legs locking them in place
As the voice slows down and becomes
    more concise
        my bindings rise up
Now you see me,
     wrapped head-to-toe
          not moving
I am surrounded by my own doubts,
     Weighted down with my own
     choices
I open my mouth,
    Intending to use my Words
       like Blades
    and cut through these chains
when I realize the voice is my own
    and I am trapped in a cage of
       my own devising

Breath in,
     Breath out,
          and push It all down
Keep moving and never stop
Make it through this day
     just to start it all over the next.
The Cycle goes on and on,
     and nothing ever gets better....

Because the problem with living for tomorrow is,
that you never remember today.
When you let your only goal be to
                                         'just make it through'
You miss a lot.
                     You Lose a lot
People, places, and things all drift away today
      and all I see is that 'Happier Tomorrow'

Met the Devil at the Crossroads
   And talked all night
I told him my troubles
    And he said he would make it right

"The stress and the worry,
      I can make it all fade"

"All I would need is your soul,
     Just this one small trade."

I heard what he offered
     And the dark things he whispered

As a kid you just want to grow up
Even when the adults tell you not to
Independence and adulthood is your focus

When they warned us away from growing up
they forgot to mention a few things:

No one said being an adult would feel like drowning,
like a slow suffocation you do to yourself

You do what you have to in order to survive.

You keep breathing in the things that drown you,
because what else are you going to do with them

But with each breath you sink lower and lower.

With each breath you learn something new about yourself

With each breath you are forced to take under this water made of
               bills,                    
                   and jobs,                              
                         a lot of responility
                                   and not much sleep
                        
                    
you drown a little more

and resign your self to the slow death of adulthood

There once was a girl who
Had an insecurity complex
The size  



                          Of the Grand Canyon


She lived with these feelings
         And feigned confidence when she could
But sometimes
                          Well sometimes
                                                      She just couldn't
Sometimes she couldn't stop the thoughts

That everything was her fault

That she could've done something more

That she could fix the world

Which sometimes made it all worse

My heart screams at me
     "DON'T LET LIFE PASS YOU BY!"
but my battered soul sits huddled in the corner
      telling me that I don't deserve
love
                                       or happiness
that these things that give me hope
will end up being a mistake
that will lead to even more pain in my life

But I'm tired of being scared
      and denying myself
           all of the good things in life

So I'm jumping into this
      with my eyes open
           and hoping I can survive this one

being in the presence of a person who must know everything

is drastically different than being by myself,
     because I want nothing more than to obliviously exist
            to only know what I have to

I have a hard enough time processing what happened years ago

and it just amazes me that you, who has been through so much,
      who has seen and done and survived all these things I can't even imagine
              that you still ask questions. that you still don't hide from these things.

You make me feel like a coward with all of your questions

But you also make me realize that maybe
       I should start hunting my own monsters actively
            maybe I should ask more questions

and maybe the answer to your ever pressing question
of how oil and vinegar became such fast friends
is that we needed someone completely opposite
                                                        to keep ourselves afloat