You haven't gotten less perfect;
I'm just becoming more aware of the fact that I have.

I could drink,
but what would I do when I sobered?
I could smoke,
but what would I do when the haze subsides?
I could cry,

Hello.
You already told me that.
You're so pretty I kind of hate you for it.
Stop talking.
I don't care.
Do you wanna hang out?
I miss you.
Please don't go.
I'm sick of crying over you.
Is it something I said?
You're just like my father.
Sorry.
What do you want me to do?
You're mean.
I thought you'd call.
What you said kept me up all night.
I'd rather you didn't do that.
You're good at hurting me.
What happened?
I don't believe you.
I hate you.
Leave me alone.
Stop.
Goodbye.

Maybe I'm too willing
To share the intimate details of my life.

Maybe I'm too willing
To be the right person
for all the wrong reasons.

Maybe I use my dad as an excuse
to hold on too tight.

Angry people are just people;
People that were sad too long.

Bitter people are just people;
People that were angry too long.

Spiteful people are just people;
People that were bitter too long.

I know the weight at which I will find balance.
Yet I can't seem to loose the last pound.

The scale is always tipping.
I'm too light.
I'm too heavy.

I'm too available.
I'm too busy.

I don't sparkle anymore.

"Trust your womanly intuition."
But what if I don't want to?
What if my tuition says:
"you can't break the cycle."
Or:
"you're a **** up."

I'm tired of these things.
These things my mind does
To sabotage.
I'm tired of protecting myself
From me.
I'm tired of not having the words
To explain how I feel
In a way that makes sense.

**** intuition.
Can't trust it
Because I can't trust myself
To do the things I say I will:
"Be happy."
"Be productive."
"Be better."
"Forgive."