Because it doesn’t matter how black my mascara is or how red my lips are I'm still only made of water
and sometimes water gets spilled
and sometimes it doesn’t rain again for weeks
and sometimes that’s my life
and sometimes i wish i was made of *****
because then at least someone would notice when i was gone

In school, they tell you all about the monsters that hide in dark allies and creep around corners
But they don’t tell you about the ones that smoke cigarettes outside the mall,
the ones with eyes so blue that you could swim in them for years and never see land,
the ones with too black jeans and too sweet cologne
They don’t tell you about the ones that pierce you with a look so deep that you never think twice when they take your hand a lead you into loud parties with too much smoke and too many people
You never think  twice when he slips his hand down your shirt because you've never been looked at this way before and my god this feels like love
no.
No.
It isn't until you leave the tenth message that hour and you feel tears slipping down your face and you can't stop the hurricane roaring in your chest that you start to think
And ******* I wish I could stop

because when I see you I still remember the way your touch made flowers blossom between my hipbones

I could probably write beautiful things, things that would make your throat tighten and your eye sight blur, but the words, the words that I need to make that happen, always get stuck.
Stuck in the limbo that separates my thoughts from my speech. It's like trying to remember a dream, all fuzzy edges and bits of feeling. There's no clear end, and no clear beginning. Sometimes you end up in the middle and sometimes that’s the worst part. Not being able to remember the order, the order of words, of sentences, of thoughts.
It's looking left before you cross the street, then looking right, then having to look left again because you can't remember if there was a white truck coming or if it was just the glare from the sun.
It's touching a hot stove when you were three and jumping back crying at the fire racing up your finger tips, only to repeat the action an hour later because you've already forgotten that red means hot.

When your best friend tells you that she hasn’t eaten anything today, don’t laugh along with her like it's some kind of contest, hold her hand and tell her you love her and she's beautiful

When your sister says that the neighbours cat got a little nasty, don’t roll your eyes and shrug along with her, pull her close and tell her about the time she taught you how to ride your bike and remind her that you never want to be an only child

When the boy next door tells you that he fell during gym for the twelfth time this month, don’t giggle and tell him to stop being so clumsy, give him an ice pack and let him tell you about all the doors and stairs that hit back until his throat is raw and he feels a little less alone

I've joined the ranks of those who never sleep, those who never sleep, those who live on coffee and cigarettes, who listen to acoustic yellowcard and dream of what happiness really is.