I'm so excited!
I'm growing up!
I'm so excited!
I'm throwing up!

I pay taxes!
I have a job!
I pay taxes!
I'm no slob!

I'm looking for an apartment!
I'm finishing school!
I'm looking for an apartment!
Being an adult is cool!

I cut down to two packs a week!
I have a savings account!
I cut down to two packs a week!
I smoke a healthier amount!

I get high!
I can't sleep!
I get high!
I'm in knee deep!

I get high!
I can't sleep!
I get high!
The ***** deep!

I get high!
Or else I can't sleep!
I get high!
Or else I can't eat!

I'm an adult!
Life is great!
I'm an adult!
I'm full of hate!

**** me now!
The stars are bright!
**** me now!
My head isn't right!

I hate myself!
I love you too!
I hate myself!
I love you too!

I'm full of stress!
I can't rest!
I'm full of stress!
God ******, I'm doing my best.

a map scrawled in the dirt,
with a broken stick
held by a broken hand
controlled by a broken mind
being kept alive by a broken heart.

It's not beautiful
because it's broken
(stop romanticizing my primordial urges)
it's beautiful because it's the nature of it.

stop romanticizing my primordial urges.
I wanna hit and hurt and destroy and **** and **** and maim and desecrate and consummate end eradicate and emasculate and ******* and I wanna push you up against a wall and feel you on the inside and I wanna push her down a flight of stairs for making me feel the way I do for making my **** hard.

i want you to feel this

'She will change,' I cried.
'Into a withered crone.'
The heart in my side,
That so still had lain,
In noble rage replied
And beat upon the bone:

'Uplift those eyes and throw
Those glances unafraid:
She would as bravely show
Did all the fabric fade;
No withered crone I saw
Before the world was made.'

Abashed by that report,
For the heart cannot lie,
I knelt in the dirt.
And all shall bend the knee
To my offended heart
Until it pardon me.

I've been waiting out these rainy days
with my head down
and my ears waiting eagerly for your call

I had my own whimsical hopes about you
and how maybe we could be
because I liked the way you don't say much
and how you only smile if someone actually deserves it
and when you sit alone in the farthest corner of the gardens
because it's exactly where you wished to be

I was captivated by your mystery
and the possibilities I had told myself were more than a good chance
My hopes built higher after you mentioned one evening alone together
they peaked, and pointed to a plateau of so much fantasy I could finally see clearly

There is always a caveat in these situations
and mine starts with a but,
but, you rarely look at me when I speak
but, you never even held my hand
but, you never ask about me
but, I can hardly get a word in when we're alone
but, I can't be with someone who doesn't value me

I've spent my entire life building up fantastical stories and telling myself that boys liked me because it was the only way that I could feel like I was worth something.
My main objective for as long as I can remember has been changing myself to make it easier for people to receive me,
but i'm not a ******* package waiting to be delivered to price charming's doorstep just so he can open me up, use me, and throw me aside.
No longer will I pretend that I am not a whole being.
The parts of me that are not soft and pink are still worth something.
I have baggage and rough patches but I think those scars are beautiful.
My thoughts may come out scattered but they're still worth hearing,
and I cannot go chasing down the love of someone who doesn't care to understand that I am more than just a sum of a few pretty parts.

I feel myself decaying.
I count the cells dying;
there goes a brain cell,
and there a lung cell,
and there a mass ****** of skin cells,
a genocide of nerves.

I sit in dirt, wearing ***** clothes.
I live in filth.
I devour sunshine
and **** apathy.

I just don't care.
I have 14 cigarettes,
an eighth of shrooms and 30 dollars of ***,
and that's only counting what's in my coat pockets.

I'm dying,
but you call it living.
I'm suffering,
but you call it the best years of my life.

Don't tell my mom where I go when I say I'm going to Liam's,
it's not that she wouldn't understand,
it's worse.
She would understand all too well.

Chug a beer,
and another,
count only the cells dying that don't regenerate,
just as the trust you find in other's won't.

Tuck me into a blanket of ****,
and kiss me goodnight.