I feel like you can't hold me,
I'm too cut open,
Too insubstantial,
Too much space,
Too much glue,
Not enough pieces

Girls like me don't make the same mistakes,
They hide,
Fill their hearts with bubble wrap,
And their stomachs with stale air,
Stitch on someone else's smile,
Write falsehoods on their tongues,
Steel rods up their backs,
Pins in their fingers,
Nails behind their teeth,
Cushioned with no-nonsense policies,
And venom on their sleeves.

You can't dodge the bullet twice.

Did I ever tell you,
Roses are my favorite,
In all colours,
With cherry blossoms round the edges,
And mint leaves on the side,

It was forget-me-nots,
When I was five,
But I still love their violet-blue,
And yellow freckles of pollen,
That melt with your eyes,

I liked sugar cubes then,
And honey in my tea,
With petals on my cake,
And I never screamed about bees,
When I played with the lavender,

I used to believe more,
Thinking everything was beautiful,
Like I could just lie on the grass,
Drinking lemonade forever,
And catching butterflies

I threw up blood and toothpaste,
Swirling down my sink,
I thought it might be beautiful,
But really, it was sick.

It's never an intention,
Just reflex; purge and flush,
Humanity's out of context,
I'm not in it for the rush.

It's hard to wonder,
If you're overrated,
When I'm caught,
Blurred vision to your fever,
Two steps behind

It's all fun and games,
With lips veiled in *****,
With a cranberry punch,
That gets me bleeding,
Trickling bright on my teeth,
Til you reach for my skin,
And you taste like the kind of metal,
I used to cut with,
Pressing into me,
Until someone notices it's wrong,
And not so pleasant,
And I leave you with a hollowed-out skeleton,
Of myself,
While I drive race cars and fingernails,
Over my skin,
And you hold on,
For fifteen minutes of silence

I just want to be,
Another acoustic note,
Played under your fingers