"Swim!" I tell him,
As I drag him down, even further
Into this ocean of addiction.

"Swim, come on you can do this!" he cheers on,
While he slowly pulls me under
And drowns me.

Go on , tell your friends about me
Show them my pictures
Expose my secrets
Humiliate me,
Tell them you had me
Elaborate the details
Of how I looked without clothes
Of how easy it was for you
Of how desperate I was for love
But dont forget to mention your part of the story too
Of how you were a coward
Of how false your intentions were
Of how you got bored of me
Of how you lied to me
Of how you broke my broken heart

What happens when the good girl goes bad
like the spoiled milk she left out?
Because I couldn't seem to get up.
I think it was something about acknowledging that I'm alive, I'm here.
Wouldn't it all be easier if I wasn't?

When the good girl goes bad
because she worked her *** off on that paper and only got a C.

When the good girl goes bad
because the world doesn't treat her right,
but I guess it must because that's
how come I'm the good girl.
Not my depressed sister sitting in her room;
not my other sister running around, destroying everything I had to work for;
most definitely
not my other sister who always seemed to be your favorite but is now smashing plates in our backyard,
'cause I guess that's what happens if you get too close to you.

When the good girl goes bad,
you get angry because
I'm supposed to be your perfect child
not supposed to be
your ***** up child
your lonely child
your lazy child
your anxious child
not supposed to be
your good for nothing child
your dysfunctional child
your doesn't give a **** about anything anymore child.
why don't I ******* give a **** about anything anymore?

When the good girl goes bad
your life falls apart,
because clearly
you had enough to deal with already,
because clearly
this is all my fault,
because clearly
you don't have the time to face your good girl
and
because clearly
that's all on me.

When the good girl goes bad
because you left her out on the counter all those years, sitting there to rot.
And though I know that you can't waste your time putting it away, 'cause you never cared for it anyway,
maybe you shouldn't have bought the milk if you didn't want to drink it.
And I know the milk should take care of itself
but I tried and that only works for a couple of years
before the good girl gone bad falls far off the counter, spills across the floor,
and the only thing left is to throw that nasty old milk away
because your bread, eggs, oil, etc. need your attention
and it's just too late for the good girl.

When the good girl goes bad
because she never asked to be the good girl
or maybe I did, I don't really remember,
but not like this.
I just wanted to be loved
but little did I know that
the good girl just sits there
keeping herself afloat,
but the boat can't guide itself if it wasn't given eyes.
The boat can't patch itself if you keep telling it its still brand new
when its really old, broken, and covered in holes.
You shouldn't put a boat in the water if you know its going to sink,
but I guess you only really need a couple good boats
so you can just toss the good girl.

When mama's little good girl goes bad,
she feels guilty
because she was told she'd always be
the good girl.
Though, its hard being the good girl when you don't have any windshield wipers for your tears at night.
But the tears at night aren't supposed to exist
because
I'm still mama's mother ******' good girl,
just...
please pretend I haven't gone bad.

soft sweaters and
harsh breathing
fabric pulled tight
around cold fingers,
the grooves of the stitches
an odd comfort

hair tangled with eyelashes
a dark curtain
a shield from the outside world
knotted and wavy
from days without brushing

toes, flexing
mouth, twitching
unable to stay still
unable to stop moving
for fear of losing self
in a world of bright lights
and too many warm bodies

blood, bubbling like soda
under skin
itchy
messy
get out
get quiet
get dark
please, silence,
no more

breathe in
fingers play with hair,
the texture soothing
repetitive
familiar
safe.

Would you rather I fill you with fallacies of love
Or speak the truth
For years we dwell on what is sweet or easy to bear
for years we dwell on what is sweet or easy to bear
let that sink in
Whatever the truth is , it most certainly has never been easy

Hypnotized to accept what is
But in reality, it isn't
And what isn't  leave us salivating
for that beautiful dalliance with life


We are hooked
Subconsciously slaving
Inventing picnics in the name of innovation
high on rugged ideas puffed into a void

Wiccan pride
I am a witch, I do declare,
I’ve spent my nights in forest bare,
I spin my spells in candle light,
I bring your wishes, dressed in white,
I bring you luck, if you desire,
I call my corners, ascending higher,
I mix the oils, I blend the ash,
I do not want my pay in cash,
I’d rather have a favour made,
Or better still, my word you’ll spread,
So fear not me, and what I be,
If you need help, then contact me.....