i don’t know how to feel a little
i only know too much
sometimes that’s a good thing
sometimes i love you so much i don’t need to breath
but other times i’m so angry i could drown in it
so sad i might be consumed by it
so much i might push you beyond my reach

i wish i wasn’t so much

maybe i love you
because you truly could crush me with one look
collapse my lungs with a few steps
burn my skin with the littlest touch
shatter my psyche with just a few words
you could ruin me
wreck my heart
crush my soul
you could and you don't even know it
so maybe i love you
because i'm happy to give you this power

intimacy is such a funny thing
because i do feel close to you
and that's what intimacy is
right?
feeling a special kind of closeness
but i think i could be closer
there's a space between your two arms
i could just stay there
and burrow myself closer
closer and closer
till every part of me is close to you
that's intimacy
right?

someone told me i behave passively
that i move with the flow
as though nothing can touch me
but it’s just how i behave
a crutch
coping mechanism
a funny little way to say i live inside myself
keep the turmoil in my head
feel the hurt inside myself
and behave passively

you think it’s fun i’m crazy
but you just don’t get it
i’ll drive myself insane before you
and i’m not always fun
sometimes i’m scary
but in a scared for me than of me way
scared i’ll burn my life down just to feel the warmth
and i’m scared you might get caught in it

i promise you’re not the only one upset
but despite how much i want to hold your hand
and how much i want to feel every bit of you pressed against me
i can’t help feeling like tearing away my skin
and clawing off your fingerprints from my bones
i just can’t bare to feel the weight of your touch
even the lightest lingers
and i’m scared your touch might never leave me
and i couldn’t handle being haunted
by someone walking around touching someone else

sometimes i forget
you’ve been a daughter longer than you’ve been my mother
it’s easy to forget
you were a girl that cried for her mom
a girl that sought comfort from her mom
a girl that fought with her mother
a girl that has done all a daughter can
so easy to forget
the girl my mom can’t stop being

i told you it was just that time of year again
and you asked me what i meant
as though you haven't been there that time of year
every year
and every year that time of year seems to get longer
and every year i seem more eager for it to come around
because this time of year is better
not good but the rest is worst
this is the time of year i set myself on fire
and see who burns out faster
me or everything i touch
me or the world
and every year i lose
but i'm getting better
i can make the game last longer
i learned how to fuel my own flames
and you've always known how to make me burn bright
maybe one year you'll be there to see me win

i hate when i start doing well again
when i manage to get out of bed again
manage to go to class again
when i start eating more than one tiny meal again
start going to the gym again
when it gets easier to pull myself out the shower again
easier to say no again
i hate when i start doing well again
because i catch myself falling for it time and time again
catch myself believing i’m not just doing better
but that i am better
and that i can finally stay better

time and time again
i catch myself attracted to
good for nothing potheads
small time criminals
boys with daddy issues
(sometimes even mommy issues)
boys that don’t want to be better while i’m around
boys that want to dig themselves deeper
boys that’ll be better for a girl that matters
and i’m just not that girl

you were never nice were you?
i was just easy

growing up ***** for many reasons
one that breaks my heart more and more everyday
is realizing my parents are not the monolithic people i've always seen them as
as a child it was easy to be hurt
to be mad at my mom for her mistakes
to be sad about my dad's short-comings
and then i grew to understand that their personal trauma and triumphs permeated every part of their parenting
and when i was younger it was easy to be hurt
now being hurt feels juvenile

can you tell my mother loved the way I cried as a child?
can you tell my father loved how few and far between my words were?
can you tell i was loved for all the things i couldn't help?
that being loved felt like being mocked
when you look at who i am today
can you see the child i tried so desperately not to be?

my father taught me love is conditional
that you can stop loving the people you promised the world to
that you can pack away their things as though they never occupied your heart
that you can go through the daily motion without thinking of them
that you can fill their seat at the dinner table with someone else
that you can carry on with the holidays as though no one is missing
that you can give up

my father taught me you can say i love you & goodbye without missing a beat

i don't know why that night was so ****
i don't know why that was the night i couldn't handle things
i don't know why it felt like the world was crumbling down on me
i don't know why i let myself **** up
i ****** up progress
i flushed 3 years without self-harm down the drain
and then things kept spiraling
my best-friends were at a party
and i was walking around campus alone
and i was more scared of what i'd do to myself than what strangers could
so asked a friend to just keep me from being alone
i asked him because i expected nothing from him
and his judgement meant nothing
so he wouldn't disappoint me
and i couldn't disappoint him
and he may be a bad person like my best friends say
but he was what i needed that night
and they're never gonna understand what that really means
they can't comprehend that it wasn't a matter of seeking comfort elsewhere
it was a matter of survival
and to make it through that i night i couldn't handle anyone caring too much

maybe it's not that i want you in my life
maybe i just don't wanna let go of that part of my life
the part of my life where i let you come and go as you please
the part of my life where i let us pick up where we left off
where i let us ignore the fact that things are different and time has passed
but we don't really talk about those parts
we don't address the girls you tried it with between our stops and starts
we don't mention the bad things i've done with boys i shouldn't have
and even when i finally bring myself to say out loud that it did hurt and does hurt everytime you do this to me
i still let you hold me in your arms while i cry about you
i still try to make you laugh while crying about you
i still kiss you goodbye after crying about you

sometimes i think i need it
sometimes i think about hitting you up
i think about asking to talk
i think about just texting it all
i think about just sending you a song
but
then i realize
i don't need closure
and deep down i know i'm not reaching out for it
i need chaos in my life
and calling you was always the easiest way to get it
i know i'm not looking for closure
i'm looking for a fight