There is a point at every party
where I look at myself if the mirror
and realize how drunk I am.

Then I laugh because I don't recognize myself.

I have no backbone because I've been bent out of shape. I compromise my morals so I can tolerate the skin I'm in. What I want is to cut it off. I want to expose the tissue, muscle, and bone underneath. The wind is harsher when you've got no skin. No protection. I don't need my skin to be thicker. I just needed to be new. If the scars disappear I'll forget how I got them.

I'm leaning up against you because I have no backbone.
I have no morals.

I'm okay with not knowing who I am.

I thought I understood it until the ink bled together into one unintelligible run-on sentence.
It made sense until it didn't.
I thought I could keep up
Or fall behind if that's what you needed of me.
No one told me second place meant losing and losing meant mascara streaked shirt collars.
When people ask why you eyes are red
Just say you're tired.
And they will pretend to believe you
Because they don't want the burden of your tears.

Internal struggle.
A perilous fight.

It's been said that guilt is a human invention.
A form of self punishment that enables us to attone for our mistakes and shortcomings.

I guess that makes me a *******.

she dances at parties because the people that dance at parties
look like they're having fun.
she never learned that fun isn't a synonym for happiness.

maybe daddy hates her because she reminds him of mommy.
*mommy danced at parties too.

He knew she wasn't a ****
she just needed to make up for the attention she never got from daddy.
He loved her because she needed him to
because she couldn't make up for a lack of daddy's love all on her own.
He'd endured the self loathing she felt now like a paper cut dipped in alcohol.
He'd endured it and it went away.
It went away because of a girl.
A girl that loathed him more than he loathed himself.
She loathed him because he needed her to.