I'm sorry I'm not 'perfect'
I'm sorry my hair isn't as thick as hers
I'm sorry I'm not as blonde
I'm sorry I need glasses
I'm sorry my eyes are almost black,
          not blue or hazel or something pretty
I'm sorry my nose is big and pointy,
          not small and cute
I'm sorry my lips are weird
I'm sorry I'd rather write and read
           because I can't sing or play very well
I'm sorry I'm not curved in all the right ways
I'm sorry I can't afford nice clothes
I'm sorry I'd prefer to help the community
           rather than get straight A's
I'm sorry I'm a really religious Catholic
           not a really religious Baptist
I'm sorry that we're not twelve anymore
I'm sorry that I'm not worth the effort
I'm sorry I'm ****** up
I'm sorry I love you
I'm sorry I'm not *her

Flashes of life,
right in front of me,
holding your hand,
creating a memory.

Only this once,
you will dance for me,
Only this once,
the stars will fall.

Crying,
in my memory,
I see you falling apart,
senseless, are you alive?

Black pitch darkness,
screams and silence,
violence and light,
your body erupts.

There is blood on your lips,
and it's so cold in your arms,
the whispers of death
are with us tonight.

I open my eyes,
I don't want to see,
but I cannot be blind,
even if others could be,
I have to speak:

You girl out there,
just listen to me,
I am too tired
of repeating this,
repeating constantly.

I open my eyes,
I don't want to see,
but I cannot be blind,
even if others could be,
but what do I see?

I see the girls
ruining their bodies,
cutting their skin,
because they can't
cut the soul.

They feel so useless,
out of place,
and out of control.
Sending their pics,
to guys they don't know.
Or worse.

How do you fall,
for someone so selfish,
who just says:
"Make me feel good!"
and why you do?

And what you do!
Why can't you stop!
This is not love.
Just an abuse.
Just an abuse.

They say that a preacher's daughter
is the most rebellious, immoral.
Daddy raised me to be a good girl.
To believe in God and to be wholesome.
I grew up in a strict household.
Don't make the preacher look bad.
Well, I stopped believing in god,
and I broke under the pressure
of the high moral standards.
The preacher doesn't take kindly
to his little girl forsaking his god.
The preacher's daughter
isn't so chaste anymore.

Put me to your lips and inhale
Taste me on your tongue
Before you force me out
In a puff of smoke
Watch me disappear into the air
As I swirl around you
Bring me back in
For round two

Sometimes,
I wish to make a statue
out of me.
And I mean it literary.
Take a knife
and make curves
how I want them to be right.
And cut out
all parts I don't want.
With precision
cut the skin, the flesh,
the need for perfection
desire to bleed.
I will be an artist,
body the masterpiece.

i am seaglass
collect me along the shore
i am once jagged edges
now dulled by time and salt
wounds full of salt
i have forgotten what sweet is
foggy clouded
clarity lost for the sake of beauty
i am discarded
collect me along the shore
i am scattered in pieces
that no longer fit together
curves and waves
i am tough i am smooth
i have lived my life in rough waters
water and rock
have rearranged my shape
i am under your feet
collect me along the shore

I am sitting on the chair
and suddenly I fall,
my head is banging on the door,
my body's shaking on the floor.

I know what's going on,
it will never be better,
it will only get worse,
I've lost control.