“What’d I do
To deserve this
Now
How did this happen?”

When did I drop
From the ecstasy of heaven
To the pits of hell
I fought so hard
You know that right?
I made my heart ice
I caged myself to stay safe
And I caved
Because I hated it
Being alone
Look where I am
It’s no field of wildflowers
It’s all a ruin
Of my own making
Me
I did this
Me
Little insignificant
Me
I wanted so much more
I sought it out
And I destroyed myself
And everyone I love too
The cage was better
So much better
So safe

falling in love is a feeling. being in love is a choice. there is such a stark difference between falling and being. you could fall in love with many people, but you can only be in love with one. falling in love… not exactly there yet. falling in love is a feeling. it could change overtime. the fall may be stopped. the fall may be continued until such time that falling would be turned into being. being in love is a continuous choice to be. to be… to exist… to stay in love.

Some days I want to be completely alone,
on others I’m crying for friends I don’t have.
Sometimes I want to go out and have fun,
other times I feel like a troll came
and super glued me to my bed over night.
It’s so exhausting, being scared and tired all the time.

I don’t blame you for the feeling of my heart disintegrating in my gut
Nor for the absence of my warmth
I don’t even blame you for my cynical nature
I just wish you gave me a door
so I could escape such an empty room you left me in

He's got a neck like a turkey, I think,
So small, so easy to wrap fingers around to choke.
Daddy always said to have an escape plan,
I just thought mine would be a door.

I could wax poetic, like I wax my body,
I could wax poetic and rip away everything
Until I'm left with the bare skin naked ugliness
Of this man with a neck like a turkey.

Momma was raised on the Devil's farm and she knows ugly.
She always said that turkeys were mean, proud things,
Mean with beady little false Thanksgiving eyes,
And he's got the neck of a turkey.

And I suppose this is his revenge after a life spent as the meal
And It's my turn to be the prey, and it isn't beautiful,
I've waxed away the poetry and now it's just us,
And it's almost funny.

He's hunting, and I know because he said so,
Feathers fanned out, Turkey playing Peacock cocky.
Daddy always said to have an escape plan,
I just thought mine would be a door.

He's got a neck like a turkey, I think,
So small, so easy to wrap fingers around to choke.
And it isn't beautiful and it isn't poetry,
I waxed it all away, and it's almost funny.

Smoke some ****
It grows like a plant
The life that I feed
Inhale too much smoke now i can't.....


I cant Feel my body