I keep cutting windows into my cardboard walls
Square-shaped snapshots of sunshine
They remind me that there is a world outside
Of my dark and dusty paper cage

I don't bother with panes of glass
(I do not want to see my cold reflection)
But instead I leave the gaping holes wide open
And try to remember the taste of fresh air

The other day I told you about how I sometimes get the urge to eat tree bark
The flaky, papery kind that peels from the trunks of certain trees
Just a little, just to try it
You told me that was ******* weird

I'm more honest with you than I am with myself
You are my diary, a shoebox of secrets
And I tell you everything that runs through my head
You know me inside and out, like the back of your hand, like your favorite book

I want to be your hometown
I want you to find a place in me where you can be safe
And shed your skin, be as naked as I am
Let me be your shelter
Together, we can hide from the snow
Until the world thaws out

I can feel you inside of my chest
Nestled between my lungs
I can taste you in my mouth
You're on the tip of my tongue

You are curled up inside my skull
Constantly on my mind
I can feel you in the palms of my hands
And creeping down my spine

I've injected you like ******
And I can feel you racing through my veins
This momentary rush of pleasure
Would be worth a lifetime of pain

There's a girl in my bathtub
I can see her dancing on the surface of the water
Her eyes glinting in the florescent bathroom lights
She and I have a lot in common
The same cropped hair and scars,
Crisscrossing our bodies like little train tracks
She shivers as the water pours into the tub
Hot rain falling from the faucet
I watch her beneath the surface
And I wonder if she is drowning

Here?
Even you are
Nothing;
Worth your
Weight in
Fool's gold
~
Gold fools.
In weight,
You're worth
Nothing.
Are you even
Here?

I am in awe of the limitless nature of the human mind
How it stretches infinitely inwards
Containing a private universe that would be forever in isolation
Unless that individual chooses to launch out shooting stars
Rocket ships from other worlds in the form of music, poetry, art
We are sending satellite signals out from our galaxies
Desperately holding cups to our ears
Tightrope walking on the string theory

The sunlight doesn't pour through open windows here
It drips through slots in the blinds
Creeps underneath the front door
Sunlight this time of year is scarce
It is white and cold, like wine
And so we bottle it up
Thirstily tapping light and saving it in the cellar for the darkest night