the theatre has fallen,
the great black box is no longer a home away from hell
it is a soundscape of fear and hunger
where I can't feel accepted
and no longer respected
it is a nest of inferiority
and a longing for conformity
lonliness eats my heart away
though exactly why, I cannot say.
It used to be my home
my kingdom,
but on return from summer
it was as if the house had been renovated,
a new family moved in
and I'm not even a guest,
I'm a ghost, unseen by all
drifting through walls that used to be
stuck in the past
desperate to breath with the living.
But instead I stay in back,
haunting all I see,
under the realization,
that the only one being haunted,
is me.

You're here if I need you,

but not the way

that I need you

"oh god, seeing you in that dress
makes me realize just how fat you've gotten
why didn't you brush your hair?
I don't care if you wanted it curled that way it looks awful!
who's he?
he looks like a freak,
this is disgusting
I can't believe you embarrassed me this way
you nasty **** I bet you lied to me too!
I don't understand where I went wrong
to have such an ugly sinning daughter"


oh yes,
what would I be without my mother?
happy.
I'd be happy.

The walls are thin
and I can hear them
talking about me.

They don't bother to whisper,
shouting my faults
insults
teases
blaming me
for all that is wrong.

The walls are thin,
and even blasting my music
lovely lana
cannot drown out their curses.
but the walls don't really matter.

Funny,
people drive me home
and they say
they wait
to make sure I get inside safe,
but don't wait
to make sure I come out safe.
One foot in the door
and the insults come rushing
it's a battle to breath
only harsh cruel words are spoken
and my silence cannot lessen them.

Every breath I take
is deserving
of a slap in the face
and screams
inches from my heart
the air is cold
and tense
so I keep the lights off
so the only light
comes from my computer
where I can hide away
in fictional stories
and superheroes
wishing I was one of them.

The walls are thin
the walls don't matter
it's like they're not there at all
I'm always under attack
getting text messages at school
to let me know how bad I am
I have nowhere to run
nowhere to go
no place to stay
I'm stuck fighting every night
bones too weak from the fight
to get up each morning
the best I can do
is stay barely alive
seconds from tears
hoping one day
I can be liberated.

I see her in hooded head
Walking by in the night
The dusked shadows dewy in thought

Rumors fill my inquirious desires
As she transcends the vacuous light
Dare not I to ask where you go

She fills me full of fright

But alluring to me like catalepsy
Mewing the cats-eye of my discontent
Then around upon the angled corner

My phantasmagoria bent

It is amazing
how just the thought
of having to go home
can incite such tremendous fear,
trembling hands
watery eyes
a bad mood
and heavy weight
making my body tired and slow?
Isn't it fascinating how
no matter the great day
the timeless adventures,
the tender hugs,
going home
can make it seem
like it never existed?
isn't it wild
isn't it phenomenal
isn't it crazy
how simply going home
can make me want to die?

for once
I would like to fall asleep
in someone's arms
and drift to happy dreams
feeling safe,
and warm,
and calm,
perfectly at ease
breathing in their scent
knowing
that I wouldn't mind
waking up.