a car with no air
can fit only so many souls inside
when one is angry the other cries
a family to be, a war to fight
hey, look at me, i made it out alive

the home i run to
once broken, now a shadow
i feel fear strike
but i always believed
that the grass was greener on this side
and look at me, i'm still alive

my breaths are shaky, quaking
just waking up to sheer screaming
these memories are what make men lie
and to know that her face resembles mine
makes me remember even more
and i realize those screams were most certainly mine
but, look at me, i'm barely alive

I want the blood I shed to mean something.
Is it bad that I wonder what people would say, how they'd react if I was gone?
I'm not being dark. I'm musing.

I don't want to be a thorn in anyone's side, I don't wish for attention that sometimes I forget I need.
I'll be sitting, music blasting out the demons, and realize I've forgotten to eat. To sleep. To breathe.

It's to the point where it's almost not sad anymore, you know? Like I've forgotten how it was before this cloud became something that'd stay with me forever. And it's at coasting, numb points like this where I honestly don't even know if I want to feel better. What is better, anyways?

And they always tell me I have so much to live for. And I do, that's the only reason I don't go. It's not the fact that I'd miss so much about my life and everything that I have before me to accomplish.

I don't want to hurt anyone by leaving, even though my hurting would be over. This is the one area where I wish my incessant selfishness would take over.

So, pardon my venting, pardon my sad songs, pardon my black and white photos. There isn't much silence, happy music, or color in my life right now. And I'm okay with it, as much as the pain stabs, it's more of a dull pain.

Maybe one day I'll understand how it is to feel again. Maybe. No one would have even known  if I hadn't had an outburst, let my selfishness take over in a thundercloud of confusion. It won't happen again, I can't let it. I can bottle feelings. Letting go is harder. They didn't know, it needs to be that way. They need to be protected~<3

*And she cried,
"Kiss it all better, I'm not ready to go
It's not your fault, love
You didn't know, you didn't know"

"I need a really long hug and a kiss on my forehead. I need to be serenaded to and told crazy stories about magical things that can never happen but we believe they will. I need to be held sometimes and some other times I might sound distant, but it's not that. I need someone to watch sappy Christmas movies with in the summer and I need someone to help me define love without falling in love because I'm too young to fall in love but I want to be lost in it. I want to be lost in someone in the worst way. I want to know someone like the back of my hand and be able to finish their sentences and order their food for them because I know what they hate and are allergic to. I need to feel this. I need someone that's like a sibling but not so much because I might want to kiss them once in a blue moon. I need to match with someone and look into their eyes and know that it's ok. Because sometimes things aren't ok... But everyone need their person. Their person that they go to and tell everything to, even some things they shouldn't. Because that's a soulmate. It's not about being in love it's just about loving. I need to sing old songs with my person and cry on their shoulder about stupid stuff because I'm feeling sensitive (which is actually often. I cried when my mom made the enchiladas different) I need someone that I don't have to try with. I need a me. I need someone who is like me, but different... So it never gets boring. Genuine. I have these insane dreams and I just need someone to share them with. To paint this canvas called life. I need help painting it and I want to paint it with my person. I'm just as needy as I am independent and it's the worst combination because I feel like I'm 50 people in one. I contradict myself all the time and I need someone to understand that. I need someone who understands that I'm bad and I'm good all together. I make mistakes but I can do some things so perfectly. That I do cry sometimes but it does not mean I'm depressed!! That I do get super happy but it doesn't mean I'm some freak optimist. That not everything has a deeper meaning. I need that. I need someone to try new foods with and ***** with when they're really gross! I need someone to make jokes with and that even though we make fun of other people we don't actually mean it. I need someone to make the world seem like it's not all that bad and that time doesn't exist when we are together... Something like a Nick & Nora's music playlist. I want to feel like I'm on drugs all the time without doing them. Pure ecstasy. I need someone to understand me because I don't understand me AT ALL. Like at all. I need to find my missing piece."

I'm no stranger to drugs.

I look young,
but I can't say the same for my lungs.
My eyes have seen some ****,
oh but they are always up for another hit.
Pupils are used to the dilation,
that comes with the apparitions.
And my nostrils are hallways,
always ready to lead me to a bright, jumpy day.

But there is no way of purchasing the greatest feeling, no type of currency.
There is no drug, no alcohol that compares to love and its potency.
Oh my, I wish I could tell you where to find it.
Hook you up with a dealer that can sell you a hit.
I would sell my soul to get a dime bag of that pure, untouched substance.
Put it directly in my veins, let it travel to my heart, feel the sustenance.

The truth is, I just want to feel alive.
I want to feel like pure ecstasy, all the time, every moment of my life.
I've lost that feeling given to us by the gods,
and will do anything to find it, against all odds.
Oh darling, oh dear give me what little you have left.
This life is cruel, and my addiction even more so, please come death.
Death, put a rest to my thirst.
But give me a taste first.

I'm no stranger to drugs.
But babygirl, I'm fienin' for your love.

I hope you find someone who kisses your cheek and tucks you in when you fall asleep.
I hope you find someone who already has a movie put in waiting for you to come home.
I hope you find someone who can order your food for you.
I hope you find someone your mother likes.
I hope you find someone who holds a grudge against your elementary school bullies just like you do.
I hope you find someone who lays on your chest while you're watching tv.
I hope you find someone your dog can cuddle, or cat can cozy up against.
I hope you find someone that makes you snort when you laugh.
I hope you find someone that answers every out of place phone call with, "Are you okay?"
I hope you find someone that tells you they love you in front of friends and company.
I hope you find someone.

I hope you find someone that supports every decision you've ever made.
Those decisions led you to them,
and if they realize that:
Congratulations, you found your someone.

She left and I'm okay.

The way he held the door open for my mom was so normal.
The 6 foot 3 inches tall man with a bald head and beard that held forests,
the beer gut that held all the tears he held back,
the tattoos all across his arms and knuckles.
When he held the door open for my mom, I thought nothing of it.
A simple gesture that we're taught of when we're young, it meant nothing.
He made sure his body was parallel with the door, avoiding any chance of contact.
And I wasn't sure why that was until I saw him again,
right after 3 pops.
You see, the burly gentleman wasn't so much of a gentleman,
but a thief.
Because I saw him run out with blood on his shirt,
a piece in his hand,
and stuffed pockets.
The way he ran out, was anything but gentle.
There was no holding the door for the older woman about to walk in,
but a single gunshot to the gut.
4 gunshots, 3 victims,
and 2 now motherless children.
You should know he got away.
My mother is dead.
And I don't let people hold doors for me anymore.