Eat a deck of tarot cards for breakfast.
Squeeze a little ketchup on the upright hanged man,
And try to figure out where we've gone wrong.

We don't know who we are,
So we try to box ourselves into
Cute little archetypes.
We don't know what love is,
So we kiss, laugh, and cry
Until we're exhausted.
We turn turn the card...
We don't know what to do with our lives.

The poetry is embarrassingly bad
Despite having so much new inspiration.
The big feelings feel so small
When trying to express them with words.
I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.
I don't think,
I don't speak,
I don't make a sound
Other than a rustle of the sheets when turning.

I've become a simpleton -
An emotionless vegetable.
Even when the tears come at night
They mean nothing.
My limbic system
Is broken, I think.

Fairytales and picture books
Don't tell the whole truth.
Sometimes,
Toads are just toads.
They don't always become your prince
After you kiss them.

It's a funny idea, really -
The notion of finding love
In a murky pond.
Lonely bogs have lonely frogs,
I suppose.
Did you have any doubts
As you traced the surface of the water
With a fingertip?
When you took him in your palms,
Did you not have second thoughts?

It takes a mental blindfold,
Opaque enough to block out reason,
To hold a toad so dear.
He might be charming at first,
If for nothing else than for the idea
Of what the two of you could be.
But soon enough,
The emptiness will settle in.
He won't call you pretty,
Or hold you close.
He'll leave a little trail of slime
Wherever he goes.


And at the end of the day,
I'm left wondering...
Why the **** did I kiss a toad?

Blank walls, spackled
And clean, yet empty.
Stretch out your weary arms;
Feel the numbness in your fingers.
A can of paint, a brush, and a pan -
Colors bleeding from the shape of your mind.

Take a deep breath,
Feet flat on the ground,
And open your eyes.
You can remake yourself.
Paint the walls.


Blank walls, spackled.

85 degrees farenheit and counting -
A sweltering wave of heat.
It filled and fogged my mind,
As I laid supine on the bathroom floor.
I stared at the ceiling and wondered if
god still loved ***** sinners.
I then questioned if whether he did or not
Even mattered at all.

I had tied myself up in straps,
Just to forget my body for a little while.
I had spat in the face of celibacy,
Only to find that the face was my own.
Looking back at that face, I contemplated on
Just how dastardly my actions supposedly were.
Reaching in my chest, I shifted and searched,
Trying to find the sin...
But nothing surfaced.

So the play is over
After running for a year.
We had our ups and downs,
Our ins and outs,
Our highs and lows...
But that wasn't enough to keep on
Any longer.
You put on a smile and
Played your part convincingly.
I guess you really are a theater kid,
Because you made it feel so real.

I can't trace back the jagged timeline,
No matter how hard I try.
The acts all blur together -
There is no true beginning or end.
The only thing tangible and real
Is the pain,
And the scar you left behind.
To me, it's a severed ventricle
That will never heal.
To you, it's a stained napkin
To toss in the trash as you walk by.

Maybe method acting my role
Was the wrong approach.
My script told me to be
Your *****,
Your angel,
Your therapist,
But I just wanted to be your love.
I was never able to be
The perfect ***** that you wanted.
The kind of girl who
Actually stayed a girl.
I tricked myself into thinking
That I was finally good enough for someone.
I stared into the mirror
Until I convinced myself that
I was a beautiful monster.

"And I will always love you."
You listen to Dolly's when your heart is breaking,
And to Whitney's when you're ready to move on.
Some of us, however,
Stay stuck in limbo.
I can't push against the dusk
And get to the morning
If I can never trust again.
You built a city of lies
At my feet,
And the walls have yet to crumble.

And so, we take a bow
To our friends and family.
We exit, gripping a bouquet
Of dry and tattered roses.
You've taken the liberty
To give up and leave.
You're shedding the burden,
Peeling off the old, crusty skin.
I wasn't worth the trouble and effort,
I suppose.

I want to leave too,
But all the world will be the same stage.
I can't give up and leave
Unless I give up on the world itself.

I wanna look as different as I can
Than the girl you fell in love with.
The "girl next door,"
With the frizzy brown curls
And wide eyes -
I don't want to be her anymore.

I want to dye my hair dark green,
And get the kind of nose piercing
You said you didn't like.
I want to get a beautiful tattoo sleeve,
Or
An old bald guy smoking a cigar,
Tattooed somewhere on my stomach.
I want to get some boots and overalls,
And maybe start smoking.
Hell, I wanna get my **** pierced,
As scary as that sounds.

I want to have scars
That are visible.
I want to wear mascara that runs.
On the weekends, I wanna get hammered
And bring someone home...
Even though it'll make me feel empty.
I'd like to quit my fitness center job,
And make 20 bucks or so a night
Doing drag king gigs.
I want to ruin my family's opinion of me
By coming out.

I don't care if
I'm seen as wild.
All I want is distance,
Pushing the life I used to love
To the other side of the globe.
I want to get lost if I go looking for it,
Unsure of which wind will take me there.
I need to launch it so far into the void
That it stops existing.

I've got to get away from
The life I used to love with you.
Otherwise,
I'll be drowning in my sorrow forever.