Every scar is another story
Every scar is just one love.

I am tired.
Tired of the rules,
Tired of the demands,
Tired of the orders.

I am ready to leave this mess,
Leave it all behind me.
The stress and the fear,
The lust and the love.
I don't want it anymore.

I need to leave this place,
Go far away, anywhere but here,
Anyone but you.
Even home looks like a haven.

I want to drop everything.
I don't want to care about anything,
Grades, friends, parents, roommates,
And I don't want to care about you.

I want to forget the scent of your perfume,
The sound of your voice,
The touch of your skin against mine.

Worse than my newfound apathy for school,
Than my lack of interest in my friends,
Than the stress this school has given me,
Is my inability to move on without you.

I need to go home, to sleep.
To skateboard and play guitar,
To spend my mornings teaching
And my afternoons reading,
And most of all I need to
Be far, far away from you.

if she had asked me, then
"Do we all die?"
i would have answered in a solemn sigh:
"Of course we do."
the realism impenetrable, the grounded logistics.

she asks me now
"Can we exist in other dimensions?"
and i reply, with a taxed, drudging honesty:
"I have."