The first drag I ever took of a cigarette left the taste of ash in my mouth
And a burning in my throat all the way to my lungs
Until I coughed so much I felt sick
That's how I feel being in the same room breathing the same air as you

My feelings etch the page
With each tear that falls from my face

The pictures form
From the blood pooling out of the cuts on my hands

How was I supposed to know you would break me?
Or that my own pieces would cut me?

I just wanted to put them back together
So I didn't feel so empty
So I could be whole again

I write to make sense of the chaos in my head
Trying to speak the words only leaves them on the tip of my tongue
For if they left my lips and floated to someone else's ears
I'm almost certain there would be a crusade of my bones
Instead of a compassionate understanding of my soul