There comes a point without expectations
Where slit wrists look beautiful
and eating disorders become your cure

You'll start to love naps
and resent people

You can cry but no one will notice
and you won't want them to

There's a point where blood is mellifluous
tears are sweet
bones are marvelous

There's a point where you
and your bed
become lovers;
One can't live without the other
and if you didn't have dreams to escape to
even though they tease you
no one would be living