the things you'll do after emotional abuse.
They try to love you, you run.
They try to get close to you, you push them away.
They try to break down your walls, you build them higher.
And when you realize, that you are in fact all alone..
after everything's said and done..
and that emotional abuse from the past shows his face again:
you begin to self-destruct.
Crying, sobbing,, you just want to be held
but to scared to be.
Trust issues and depression begins to define you.
You have no one to blame but yourself.
& you continue to spiral,
dying inside a little more every day
until you're in your dark room, all alone once again,
and that razor blade
pretends to be your friend.

I am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is
     done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the
     world's food and clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons
     come from me and the Lincolns. They die. And
     then I send forth more Napoleons and Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand
     for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me.
     I forget. The best of me is ****** out and wasted.
     I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and
     makes me work and give up what I have. And I
     forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red
     drops for history to remember. Then--I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the
     People, use the lessons of yesterday and no longer
     forget who robbed me last year, who played me for
     a fool--then there will be no speaker in all the world
     say the name: "The People," with any fleck of a
     sneer in his voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The mob--the crowd--the mass--will arrive then.

she twirled in a circle as she raised her glass higher,
her whole body lifted along
no one has ever seen her pull an all nighter,
and her dress wasn't very long

she slumped onto the table,
her glass fumbling and not falling
her eyes were not very able,
to see her friends calling

she whispered under her breath,
"i'm okay, i can go on"
her eyes shifting towards the left,
"it's alright, the road's still long"

she pressed her lips' to male's,
her hands wandered under a shirt
she pulled away and he said "tipsy tail"
and he took her hand away to flirt

in this dream world
we doze
and talk of dreams --
dream, dream on,
as much as you wish

you should know that -
every time i take a shower,
or hold my hands just above my face,
whenever something is in front of me,

or when someone gets too close -
i cannot say it in a poetic way, but
i always find you there.