It's a big sized classroom
And I'm out of place
I think a camera's like a microscope
Once it's in my way
I emailed my teacher
'Said I don't like my face
I don't like my mind
I just don't like myself these days
I like to write in bed,
It gets this anxiety off my chest
Its only 11 in the morning
And i'm tired and stressed
I'm balancing,
All my hopes and doubts
And all my friends have worries too
But they speak theirs out loud
I'm not a baker,
But a.. Decorator
I like to decorate messy thoughts with fairy lights, rhymes and paper
I'm not a counsellor
But a.. Listener
Oh could you listen to my new song whenever it'll suit ya...

Well tell me something, what do you like to do?
Where's your favourite spot,
In this world where I favourite you
In this lonely town, where i only want to be next to you
Oh did this just turn into a love poem as i turned down 5th avenue..

I like train rides too,
I'm overcoming my fear of that
I used to worry i'd get lost
But I always seem to get back on track.
Follow my heart, follow the paths..
Follow the stars, as they spell your name in CAP'S..

Is this really a heartbreak,
Or just a sharp paper cut?
Sometimes the only way to get through to me is by ripping the bandaid right off
You did nothing to hurt me
I'm just a writer so paper cuts..
They happen often,
But its not the blood that's the loss..
Are you in love?..
Wait, Should I really know?
Well all I can do is go on
Obliviously so..
Um, are you okay?
I think that's the better question..

It's such a big sized classroom,
Filled with such important lessons,
Now.

You asked me once,
if I'd written about you.
I'd smiled as I shook my head.
With every word I write, a part of you settles on the page, amongst the ink that never dries fast enough.
Leaving smudges across the page.

I used to believe the reason I picked up a pen, sprawling ink along a once pristine page was to rid myself of you.
Word by word, drawing you out to settle amongst the ink that never dries fast enough.
I reflect on a night, spent with a lover.
My hands refused to settle,
agitated by the urge to write.
Long, shaking lines made up the letters trailing around my bare legs.
A whispered voice calls me to return, the urge is gone.
Perhaps the writing isn't for the abandonment of you. Perhaps it is the last of you - all I have now.
Muddled amongst the ink that never dries fast enough.

Little girl, what happened to you?
Little girl of chocolate milk 
and dandelions

You were so free
Sure you cried easy,
but you laughed freely too

Little girl, what have I done to you?
Little girl of day dreams
and make-believe

Your heart was so big
Maybe it was bruised at times,
but it always bounced right back

Little girl, I'm so sorry
You would be so disappointed 
to see what we've become

I lost you over time,
piece by piece,
like an old lego set

Out of broken glass
and cigarettes,
we became something new

It's hard to believe I was once you
That I was ever so pure
Now I'm what we never wanted to be

Little girl, I miss you
Little girl, I need help
Little girl, please come back