I'm just here
Sitting
Being
Music playing louder than my thoughts
Am I aware of it all?
I'm aware that of what I should be doing
crying, yelling
but luckily noisy messy tears aren't for me tonight
I'm just gonna sit here and forget
Remember to forget what's happening outside my door
I don't want to tell you
Or to talk
Thinking it through won't help
I want to loose myself in art and poetry
I want to turn my imaginary tears into something beautiful
Beautiful and angry
I want to create and design and yet here I sit
Still.

Move and hurt and space
Hating me
Feel emotion surging through my chest
Is it the music or my beating heart?
I've reached a blissful nirvana when I don't even know anymore
Listening to Fall Out Boy, Sisters of Mercy
Singing along and writing
Not thinking
Lyrics go in, a jumble of words tumbling out of my pen
I'm not making sense
None of me is
But I'm quite
Happy
Happy to be lost

This is really bad poetry
I can't think of words when I can't even get Hippie Sabotage out of my head
(my playlist has move onto indie rock)
But I'm enjoying my bad poetry
Pretending it's art.
Ranting a lot about nothing silently
I could get to the point
Or I'll just ramble on about nothing forever

Neon girls and baggy jeans
Worn to the knees on hot days
Like icicles in our hearts
I'm so sad

I have no more nothing so here goes
They're fighting again
I'm so calm
And it's all falling down
I feared for my fathers life for the first time today
Properly. The thought crept into my head before I could stop it. Instinct. So I knew it was real.
I feared for his dead eyes and his angry hands and his fragile heart

I'm scared for my mom and her burden of past mistakes
I'm scared for her happiness

I'm not worried for me.  
I don't think my heart is fragile,
and my past mistakes are just teenage dreams
after all, I come alive in change and dramatic situations.
I will deal, when it comes.
I just wish I knew when
And what, exactly

Perhaps eavesdropping wasn't the best plan
But I want to know about what will happen
She wanted to know if it was any of my business.
Well yes, Mom.

I'm fine. I want everything else to be fine, but it's broken.
I'm fine though.
Just fine
Lost in my own bad poetry.