There is so much I want to tell you,
But you do not
Know me yet so I think
It would scare you
Away

You made jokes about my
Goth phase in eighth grade
And you had no idea how
Close to home you
Were
All I wanted to tell you was
How the only reason my arms
Are clean
Is because I couldn't find
Something sharp enough

You asked about my best friend
And reminded me of all
The hurt that I make it easy
To feel
I am the easiest person to destroy
Because no one feels
A thing
And I feel everything

I wanted to tell you about the book
I read but
I know you don't like reading
And I didn't want you to see how
Vulnerable
I was when I read the letters
And the confession
And almost lost my
Mind

I can't keep it together
And I wish you were someone
I could tell but you
Don't know me
Yet
And all I'm good at is
Changing people's minds

We aren't alone. We can't be.
And the answer to the question of whether or not we are alone is both fascinating and absolutely terrifying.
We have no way of knowing.
It's entirely possible that we are alone. It's entirely possible that we're not.
But then how did we get so lucky? Why are conditions just so exactly perfect that we exist in this world in this time in this form?
Is that a coincidence?
Can that be controlled?
And then the universe itself is a whole different question.
If it is truly unbounded and infinite, and we are a part of that, we are essentially zero. We don't exist. Our existence means nothing to the universe.
And if the universe is bounded and finite, what exists past the boundaries?
What else is out there?
Will we ever really know?

I am not a psychotherapist
But sometimes I think I'm just
******
And I give out therapies
Like I gave him too many tears

I ask all the questions
That no one wants to answer
In hopes that the truth will smack them
Open their eyes wide
Like it did mine

I listen to their answers
Testimonies of their pathetic attempts
To convince themselves of happiness
No one changes unless they want to
And quite frankly
Sometimes it feels good to hate and hurt
To convince ourselves that we're different when really
We're all the same

Tell me why you want to die
And I'll tell you not to
But this circle ends and begins with
You
I cannot save you
I can lend out a hand to your drowning soul
But you must decide to help yourself
And take it

I am not a psychotherapist
But I am a ****** therapist
I'll tell you to save yourself
While I number my days

It hurts
To breathe too deeply
Maybe it would be easier
To not breathe
At all

He is not mine
And I am not his
All you wanted was to have me
But I refuse to belong
To anyone but myself

I've been living in an expectation
I am a series of checked boxes
Containing everything
I used to be

I've been living in the shadow of my past
In words and vows I made
Once upon a time

I've been changing
Who I used to be exists only
In the memories of those clinging
To their pasts

I've been growing up
Exploring the world as I never have before
Challenging my fears and testing my limits
Living for myself
Instead of for those
Who mold me into the expectation
Of everything I
Used to be

***** is my drug of choice
It's like an oxymoron
Burning as it soothes the senses
But tonight I took a voyage
With thieves and pirates and scoundrels
There was no burn
In my chest
Until the captain
Kissed my lips
And sent me overboard