Buy me a bottle of whatever you're drinking
cause I'm trying to bury myself in the grave next to your hollow bones

Pace through the traffic back and forth
Maybe I'm blindfolded or just plain blind

Buy me another bottle of whatever you're drinking
cause I'm tired of pretending I'm at war when all I want is peace

I'm staring at the stars, I followed your eyes there
Now I find myself praying you might shift your gaze
Maybe glance at me when I'm not looking

I'll take another round of whatever you're drinking
cause I'm hoping your skeletons are as dark as they look

Lately it's been too bright to sleep
I can see carpe noctem etched in your fingertips
Like a print: your identity

I'll have another glass of whatever you're drinking
cause I can't think of another way to get close to you

For I'm already buried by your hollow bones

I'll take one last shot of whatever we've been drinking
cause it has to be better than drinking the same old **** alone

If you give a girl a with a big heart your broken pieces,
she will gently pick them up and carry them in her soft hands,
and pay no mind to your sharp edges.
She will try to glue you back together
and she’ll do it in a way that made you forget you were ever broken.
With scratched finger tips and ****** palms,
she’ll lift you up to the sun,
letting it's blinding rays shine through you
to show you that even the worst things have things to love in them
and that even the shattered can again be whole.

If you give a girl with a big heart your body,
she will study you like an archaic God.
She will learn your curves and surfaces like braille,
she will adjust her hearing to the pitch of your laughter
so that no matter how far apart you become,
her ears will perk up like a dog's when you giggle,
and she will smile, knowing that you smile.

If you give a girl with a big heart your time,
she will make each second feel like infinity,
and each sunset like the end of the world.
You'll forget that the universe is as vast and wondrous as it is,
because you will be so captivated by the light that she emits
right where she sits,
by your side.

And if you take from a girl with a big heart,
please,
for the love of God,
do not take it all.

If you take from a girl with a big heart,
please remember that her love is not a renewable resource.
The wind and the sun and the water will forever be there to serve you but
she will run dry, and become another fact of history that will one day be forgotten.

If you take from a girl with a big heart,
please remember how sharp your edges were before her,
how lifeless your body was before she touched it,
and how meaningless time was before she made it into something magical.

I write my name
My label, my identifier
My word, my definer
I write my name
And it looks wrong, outgrown
Do I have the power, the control
The grip
To change it

Get a grip
Stop slipping
State the facts
Stop tripping

You’re 17 and you’re young
You’re 17 and you have metal in your head
You’re 17 and you have metal taste
Stuck on your tongue
Dripping off when you talk
Forming the puddles in which you walk
Pooling in words that burn
They are a curse slipping through the smile
That reaches your eyes
Only because you painted it there

With brown eyes you can't make friends
With brown eyes you cried until you couldn’t
With brown eyes you smile like it’s free
You quit dancing
You quit schooling
You quit pretending
You started pretending

I am not the same as the infant born 17 years ago
I am not the same as the name that they gave me
I am not the same as the others that held my name
I am separate from that title
I am something new, beyond
Something true and someone gone

Scar after scar twinkles in the light
Hair after hair is torn out every night
What do you call a work in progress
Incomplete is not my name
I am not quite obsolete
To many I appear petite
To many I should just retreat
What a privilege to be given something to cling to that you never desired to own
No, rain is not the same as snow

A name is not a name
My name is not my name
It is a label I stole from fame
Nicole Kidman is not my role model
But her role was my model
My mother was her model on set
But this is a stage on which we are players
And I will not give a verse a name that is not of my own creation
I will not credit the broken, glue-coated, splinters of myself
To some foreign and separate person
No, not to someone else

The bite was probably the worst part
                      It rained everyday I thought about you
                      And poured everyday I tried not to
I ran for miles hoping to get close enough to see you
But you had left weeks prior
                      I couldn't scale even your shortest wall
                      Because there were already too many trying to climb it
                      So I've been waiting outside your door
                      Hoping you might remember your promise
                 And let me in
           Before another snake tastes my heel
     While I wait beyond your towering walls
Watching all the other girls you push fall

I am the in between
The middle
The line
The bridge
The limbo
The paleness
The fence
The open
The link
The connection
The break
I am the in between

The first to be forgotten
The last to be seen