"*******," I told the reflection,
"all you ever write are ****** love poems about stupid boys or stupid ways you'd love to hurt yourself."

Charred man with no eye-lids
Leaning over the end of my bed
(he stares at me when I try to sleep)
(so now I try not to)
because I don't want his fingers up my leg
or his other hand around my neck
and I don't want to become ash
Before I even get to live

I'm pathetic and restless
and I like to climb things
I like to scare myself and see if I scare you
I've got fire in my bones and ice in my heart and if there is a hell, i'll be there
I like to ride my bike on warm nights and ride my skateboard on warm days and I don't mind the way I like to imagine myself riding you.
I might be interesting or boring
But mostly I don't know what I am.
Mainly I have no clue.

I deserve to have my heart broken
and I found the perfect boy to do it
(I think he could tear my heart apart)
(I know i'll never be ready for it)

lick your lips and kiss my neck
run your hand down my bare back
look me in the eyes please please please
and then just hold me as I try to sleep

i peeled off my bottom lip
and burned off all my flesh
and stayed underwater until my lungs caved in
because it seemed fascinating

maybe sometimes i wish you'd stab me in the arms and legs,
stab me so it hurts,
stab me in the eyes so i can no longer see the ******* color of yours
(they make me crazy, anyway)

this is called, insecurity
this is called, you're ******* perfect and i wish you'd see it
this is called, i like you
i really like you