I want to yell and scream and claw myself out of this cage
And tell you what this new girl has done to me
She drowns me in alcohol
And uses my body as her canvas
She likes the way all my muscles contract at once
to expel your memory out of my stomach at 3 am
After trying to forget you at 1 am
It makes me feel alive
And she likes the way her drawings on my skin make me feel less emotion
And more grounded

But every time I go to open my mouth
To plead
To tell you  
She won’t let me
Writing is the only thing she can’t control
So I write and write and write
Words that are mushed together and silly
That pour out of me too fast to catch
I’m trying to tell you, it’s not me, mom.
I wouldn’t do this to me
I’m not me