Isn’t it funny,
The happiness we pretend to have
Is the very thing
Holding us back from living.

Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t just been the backseat of your car,
Intoxicated. My first drunk hook up. My first. Period.
I picture myself being champagne on Valentine’s Day.
I picture myself being you, nervous in the car, holding Starbucks
because you know I love coffee. Sometimes, I picture myself as her,
calling you a stalker and ignoring your calls,
but then I see myself. I call you beautiful,
turn you into poetry, laugh at your bad jokes,
I see myself as I become your drunk Wednesday night
when you’re sad. I see myself as I say no,
I become a “this is not a good idea”
and you a “we’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.”
We laugh because this hurts too much.
You take her out for dinner and I burrow money
for Plan B because you forgot you don’t like condoms
and clearly have no idea how children are made.
I have already named him. He has your curls and
my anxiety. He is smart. Except, I never wanted kids and
you would be a great father. Instead, you tell her
the beach reminds you of her and I cry in a McDonald’s
bathroom with my friend as relief floods through me that
the test comes negative. I stop talking to you,
move forward, meet someone new and before long
see myself becoming you. Because isn’t that the cycle?
Bad men turn good women into bad women who turn
good men into bad men. I’ll set him free so he can hurt
someone like me, and I drink red wine as I read her
poems about him and me.

I'm tired.
Tired of everything.
I just want to sleep,
And never wake up again.

No, I'm not lazy,
I'm not running away from life.
I'm just tired of the world and myself,
And too tired to change anything.

I used to wonder how people fell asleep in class
Now I wonder how they stay awake

I used to wonder how people failed their classes
Now I wonder how they pass

I used to wonder how people were alone
Now I wonder how they have so many friends

I used to wonder how people were sad
Now I wonder how to be happy

I used to wonder why people cut
Now I wonder how they live without self harm

I used to wonder what it's like to stay up late
Now I wonder what'd it be like to sleep enough

I used to wonder how they thought something was wrong with school
Now I wonder how somebody sees something right

I used to wonder how people want to die
Now I wonder how they stay alive

When everything is not how it is supposed to be, it's all better inside inside my dreams. Where you're back around and actually clean, reality hurts but memories don't leave.