Control
Everything comes back to control
There are pins on a board
Places you took me
Needles in my skin
Places you touched me
But, no
This time I'm not losing it
Maybe it's because you're only a foot from me
Maybe I still have some hope
Trials and errors
Everything comes back to trial and error
You were a trial
I was the error
I'm realizing in time,
Everything really does fade to black and white
I'm realizing
Everything doesn't happen for a reason
This wasn't fate
This wasn't a higher power
Here I sit,
Ready to pour
And your back is turned to me
Nothing's the enemy
There is no ******* enemy
Walking through empty corridors,
Filled with paranoia
I'm not afraid of going numb again
That'd be the best case scenario
No,
I'm afraid of feeling this
All of it
Like a slow, steady beating
Like a nail on my kneecap,
A hammer in your hand
Like it was all just
Nothing
This was your trial
And I was the error
Like a hammer in your heart
Like your heart morphing into a hammer
One swift hit
Trial and error

my hands melting on the page as my eyes close
begging for unconsciousness
but if I don't get this out now, I never will

to be completely unburdened
by anyone, and that includes me
would be simple and easy
and it would bore you to death

to need someone
why do bodies crave other bodies?
a body is just a body
until you get down to the soul
your purple and blue bruised soul

If I don't get this out now, I never will
because honey really does come from bees
and the night you kissed me for the first time
you mentioned how you were deathly allergic
so honey, do you have time to hear me?

If I knew you wouldn't
one-
get scared and run away
or two-
get bored and ask for your CD's back
I'd give you every last bit
but I have to hold some in,
to make sure you stay

words are hard so you use your hands
and looks,
and the tilt of your chin
and the shaking of your knee
words are hard so I choke out syllable
until you hand me a glass of water
and I simply sing out your name

If I don't get this out now,
I never will
I'll follow the leader,
I'll obey my command
did you expect me to make this easy on you?
oh honey, I'm not that sweet

I'm the venom in your morning Cheerios
I'm the paper cut at your favorite part
I'm the black in the morning sky
honey, I'll only make this harder,
as hard as I possibly can.

right between the place of being perfectly okay, stable,
and content and ripping at ever seam, loose at the hinges
you can see that the stitches are coming apart and
the heart doesn't want to beat anymore
I was born here
between the lines of need it I need you and that
wouldn't be good for me and neither are you
the space between total distance and I miss
the word baby so much that I feel achey
I want to yell and I want to scream but
my mouth is shut, I know there are reasons why I'm here
whether it be bad karma or the way the world turns and
if there isn't then **** whatever card I drew out of the deck
once I said
excuse me father for I have sinned
because I didn't know how to pray so I begged for
forgiveness until my ego bled reasons that I needed
to be alone but I'd rather be excused then forgiven
because I'm good at excuses and I'm still waiting
around for the moment where I forgive you

I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE.
WHEN WILL THE SKY STOP FADING
TO SUCH A DARK BLUE THAT I HAVE
TO TURN MY BRIGHTS ON AT 4 PM
WHEN WILL THIS CITY WAKE UP ONE
MORNING WHEN IT'S NOT EXHAUSTED
AND HUNGOVER ON IT'S LACK OF OXYGEN
WHEN WILL THE BIRDS SONG
BECOME OUR WAKE UP CALL
WHEN WILL THE LEASH COME OFF
WHEN WILL THE WORLD SPIN ON IT'S OWN FREE WILL
AND WHEN WILL I  STAND ON MY OWN TWO FEET
I DON'T WANT THIS, I NEVER WANTED THIS
I GOT STUCK INTO BEING SOMEONE
I AM NOT COMFORTABLE WITH
BUT I WANT TO BE
I WANT TO BE SO BAD
IF ONLY YOU KNEW HOW MUCH EFFORT I PUT
IN ASKING THE GRASS TO GROW FOR ME
IT NEVER DOES
IF ONLY YOU FELT HOW MANY TIMES I ASKED
GOD TO TAKE AWAY THE FEELINGS
TAKE AWAY THE KNOWLEDGE
TAKE AWAY WHAT I NOW UNDERSTAND
LEAVE ME BLIND AND IN THE DARK BEFORE
YOU LEAVE ME SOMEONE WHO WILL NOT BE
ACCEPTED BY ANYONE, ESPECIALLY HERSELF
IF ONLY YOU KNEW HOW MANY TIMES I BEGGED
EVERYBODY TO STOP STARING AT ME
I'M IN A ROOM ALONE BUT ALL I CAN FEEL IS EYES
AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP BEING ME

if you walked a thousand miles in my shoes you still
would not have any room judge me
where'd that idea come from, anyway?
that because you see what I see and walk where
I walk you have the power and knowledge to
write a book of every mistake I've ever made
and set it right outside of the gates of heaven
so that when my time comes I know it was your
words that left me dead?
people are not god's
you grew up reading mythology, watching the half-human
Hercules build a wall on top of his shoulders and carrying
it even throughout his most human times
I grew up reading poetry, memorizing the beauty of
metaphors to the point where I decided that when I grew up
I would become one and everything I do would be one
no wonder we have such different outlooks on life.
if someone put a knife through your back, you would die
you are not immortal because people are not gods
so why allow them to do what they do?
I told myself you would never make me sick again, ever
let me have a 105 degree fever and a pain in my shoulder
before I ever get nauseous remembering what happened
what was said or what we both did, but when I went to
the doctor and begged him to cure me he just filled his
syringe up with a photographic memory and inserted it
directly into my veins whispering
people are not god's
people are not god's
if you want to became the hands on a clock learn to
add and subtract and memorize when the sun rises and sets
if you are dead set on becoming something no one can
touch without crumbling to a pile of dust
breathe deep and walk tall
move as if your spine is made of words
that were said in such a fragile time that if you distribute
your weight improperly the tightrope will break
act as if it is never a fragile time
even though it is 99% of the time, but say it's not
say it's all just fine until your mind is snickering because
it has convinced the rest of your body it's able to keep running
people are not gods, people are not gods
people are just people and that's all they'll ever be
a mere five and a half feet, unless you allow them to
put on stilts and start walking around in your head

I am outside a high school party with a cigarette in my hand and my sweater trailing on the ground. I belong to the night; to the teenage desperation you find right through the front door inside every single one of those boys and girls eyes. It is dark outside but I can make out everyone's faces simply by the light of cigarettes. I close my eyes for a second and inhale. I can barely make out the silhouette of the person I wish was in front of me. My eyes open. You are not here. To my left there's an alley and a short boy is throwing up the 22 shots that are tallied on his forearm. His best friend is video taping it. I don't think I'm really here. Is this the alcohol speaking? I didn't feel this attached to you 3 hours ago. My mother thinks I am at work. I don't feel bad at all. After everything I have done, lying is simple. I've become accustomed to being a lie. A boy is trying to get two girls to make out and that offends me. I'm not here. I'm not anywhere. I'm with you. I matter to you. I matter to someone. I am something.
I open my eyes.
A guy is handing me a beer, so I take it. I should be going home but that girl looks like you. There are four boys to my right free styling. One of them is actually really good. I try to weave through the people to find a familiar face. I find one, and he's handing me a bottle. I don't know what it is, but I drink. It burns.
I'm outside again sitting on the curb. The streetlight that shines above me is a dark shade of yellow that glows off every wall. It reminds me of the night. The moon is looking at me with an intensity I've never seen before. I have a text from you on my phone but I don't want to open it. I don't want to be able to feel this much. I go to find the bottle again.
I'm laughing a lot now. I found the bottle. The familiar face is laughing too. Her boyfriend broke her heart last week.
Your silhouette is standing in the corner. It's beckoning me. I open your text:
do you need something?
I close your text. I close my phone and my eyes and my arms and my heart and I throw my empty beer can at that silhouette of yours.
I'm outside again. Familiar face is going to take me home.
The cigarette is glowing orange and I'm dancing to her car.
You don't love me. I don't care.