When was it ok to leave a child right where she is?
I sit here as bitter as my childhood.
Put in homes, constantly moving, but mentally in the same spot.
I stay a child.
But wish it to be Never Never Land.
Unfortunately, no one is coming in my window saying take my hand.
Trying to explain where I'm at is trying to explain something like just that.
People seem to think I'm delirious.
But when will my life be serious to you?
There should be room to grow.
There should be room to eb and flow.
But my shoreline is depleting.
Into my feelings I'm retreating.
I'm just due to get lost.
I'll get so lost at sea and there is no search party for me.
You can't save something if it already looks gone. And I guess that's how I look.
People say they're there....
How many of them didn't bail out when talks of suicide came into play?
Them leaving, I can guarantee, is just as inevitable as the fact that you are preaching to yourself.
In this empty church of your awful feelings. Freeze frame of the picture in my head and that's what I see.
I see my childhood. I see the place that it all started. And I hate it.