He knew he was just living in my shadow
We came to see what the city of angels had for us, if we could make it..
The angels silenced to hear my voice
while they turned their back to him
the dream he had for both of us turned into a one way street
and he couldn't see any sign of a bright future for him.
So he packed his dreams into a guitar case and flew back to Texas in hopes he could rekindle the life he's always known.
And here I sit. My mind sees the stars on the ground but all my heart sees is him.
The desire to feel held started to feel heavier than the reward of prosperity.
I know Whitney fashioned rivers when I turned the record off but the sound of the applause couldn't possibly be as rewarding as the sound of his voice.

I’m alone again
With the darkness

He seems to be
My only friend

He waits for me
Each night
Trying to get
Inside my head

Most nights he wins
And the black clouds
Begin to fill
My soul

The fog
So thick that
I lose all of
My control

I hear a faint voice
Telling me it’s
All okay

But the other
Things I hear
Are much louder

They say that
I’m worthless
They ask why
I try

They tell me
I’m weak
As I begin
To cry

They ask why
I’m still here
In this world
Full of hate

They tell me to
Leave, escape
this mortal state

Some nights
I want to
Listen to their
Shrieking advice

Other nights
I want to end them
To be free
of their grasp

But they’ve been
Here so long
They are
A part of me now

And the only way
To get them
To leave is
To leave as well

So, this is goodbye
I’m leaving this place

Not sure where
I’ll end up

But I know
That how I feel
Now, lying on the floor

Is worse than
Any hell
On the other side
Of the door

too many answers come down to the same
non-explanation of the simple fact
we are the ones who always bear the blame

for all the anger we have one hard name
clear and precise both noble and exact
too many answers come down to the same

wave of exhaustion so that we must claim
not what we earned but all the goods we lacked
we are the ones who always bear the blame

for what was lost and for the constant shame
that was included in the lost compact
too many answers come down to the same

inauguration of the truth of fame
which we can neither add to nor detract
we are the ones who always bear the the blame

for those who come when we call the right name
but have no thought of what it means to act
too many answers come down to the same
we are the ones who always bear the blame

I wish I was six.
I could build a castle and be the most beautiful princess when I was six.
All I needed to fall asleep was my door cracked open and my momma's voice.
The cloud of kool aid dust made me happier than a lot of things, especially if I got to pour it.
When I was six I was amazing
When I was six I fought dragons and won.
Now that I am older I realize I'm not a princess and I can't quite remember how I built that castle.
Now I can't sleep with my door cracked open. I haven't been able to sleep much at all anymore.
Kool Aid has more sugar than water. It just makes me sad now.
I'm weak
The dragons fight me
And I keep trying to fight back
But I just don't win anymore.

Bullying *****
It messes people up
I still remember the words that they would stab into my back.
I remember watching the flock of perfect swans weaving through the crowd praying that they wouldn't see me.
People can be brutal.
But people grow up and we learn how to deal with the daggers.
We learn how to deal with the rumors that infect our heads leaving traces of poison for years.
I also learned that believing them was easier.
Believing that I was the problem.
That I was nothing.
They were right
I was dumb.
I knew it was wrong, I know it is wrong.
I let myself get bullied
because I deserved it.
I went to school knowing that the bullying was going to happen, knowing I was going to lose.
I remember thinking
"Just bully me
I need it, I am not worth anything"
When I switched schools the bullying stopped.
Without being bullied, without being judged, without anxiety
I just wasn't me anymore.
I was still dumb, I was still the problem, I still needed to have something hurt me.
Since no one would do it for me, I guess I just started to do it to myself.
But what is scary about being your own bully, is that you can't run.
You can't escape your own head
And when you say
"Just bully me"
To yourself
You listen and its hard to stop

and then
you come to realize
that your porcelain bones
can't take much more
you're falling apart
in her hands
and she doesn't
want to save you
she'll drop you
to the floor
at the first sign
of those spiderweb cracks
fractured perfection
mental misteps
up the stairs
as she loses balance
while she carrys you
porcelain bones
and parchment skin
how much more poetry
can your body take

[holyoak]