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punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I drop four ice cubes into my coke out of habit.
I kiss my sweet love four times for good luck so our team can win the game.
I catch myself counting to four when Im ready to speak up, I don't count to three or even ten I count to four.

It was on my back in big white letters when dad looked through the chain linked fence and said with every ounce of his pride "Take it for a ride lex."
That's the day I got my first homerun.
That's my old man's favorite number and mine too.
Ill never know why I look at him like hes god.

He spelt my name wrong two years back.
The letters said L-e-x-i,
I whispered that's not how you spell my name it's spelled L-e-x-i-e.
I whispered because I didn't want to embarrass him, I thought if I talked quiet enough no one could see my lips break around the words in shock.
I was 5 when me and mom left him.
The number 5 is my most unlucky number it always takes something from me, like my dog, she was in my arms on the fifth of may when heaven called for her to go home.

Dad came the next day to burry her, the hole he dug was to shallow.
Days after her funeral foxes came and
scattered her bones across the field.  

It was a treasure hunt to find all of them, I tried to save her one last time.

I should really give that man a call.
I'll do it tomorrow , or I'll wait for him to call.
I'll count to four before I answer.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I've got 50 states of panic.
They're all moshing in the pit of my stomach.
I've got arthritis is my voice so I only have a certain range of communication,
I tend to lock up at the most terrible time, getting stuck on the joint of wanting to tell everybody everything all at once.

Just like the old man across the street.
The warden of his disease forces him to have all lights off by 9:30.  
If the lights still show by 10:00 we call to see if his disease escaped his prison.
The stutter at the end of the line gives us back our breath that we've been holding onto for so long.
I bet he lost track of time flipping through pictures of his sweet Joan.
I think he wants to cross over onto the next street just to hold her hand.

My 50th state of panic is that no one will call if my light is left on a little too long.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I will send you through a bad trip.
There will be bugs on your skin, you've lost your mind so the devil is laughing at you.

Bombs will be set off in the weakest parts of your foundation.

You will read my sentences as if they were in the bible.

You will feel what I feel.

I love feeling like Tabasco sauce has been poured in my eyes because I can't get words down.

I absolutely adore questioning my every move since birth because I can't match these sentences up.

But my absolute favorite thing to do is skip my pills for a day so I cause destruction so I can force creation.

The funny thing is, I took my pills today.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
You’re sick in your bones and that’s the worst kind.
That sickness ain’t compared to the one in your mind.
Those **** clothes hang over your **** bones.

More fragile then bambi but stronger then anyone I’ve ever dreamt about.
I want to hook onto your collar bones and protest about everything you know about.

I don’t like it here Sam.
I just want to sleep.
I always want to sleep.
The bags under my eyes are the same shade as this **** pencil led.
The same color as that smoke I miss so much.
That smoke that took me away.
I’m livid I’m writing so fast that my arm is cramping.
Ana stole your life, she ***** your head and your body.
And messed with your eyes.
She allowed you to let metal dance on your skin.
It wasn’t you Sam, it was your evil twin Ana.
I get so mad I just wanna lay down for a little bit.
Everyone is looking at me.
I have to breathe cuz I can’t cause a scene.
I need my partner in crime.
These lines didn’t turn out perfectly like I wanted them too.
They need to be perfect for a perfect recovery and a perfect person called Sam.
This ain’t perfect so I’m going to go take a **** nap.
Love you sam
punk rock hippy Jul 2015
It's been a year since I've yelled at paper.
Moving on from a tree that weeps and false hope in the sidewalk, I've been promoted to cigarette smoke and dust on the walls.

Asthma has come back from vacation and is here to stay.
Being woken up from lack of breath isn't my favorite "good morning".

My bloodstream tells no tale of my addictions.
I don't count how long I've been sober,
if you give it a number it'll bring it back to life, and who wants to beat a dead horse over and over.
Besides, it feels good to **** clean.

Life is livable.

Anyways, how have ya been?
It's good to be back
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
We're watching you they all whisper.
The trees collapse laughing,
the moon shows it's golden crooked teeth,
and the wolvess raise their heads to the judgment filled sky in agreement.
You're alone surrounded by these things watching you.
Nearby a stream is skipping across the rocks it mockingly  asks you,
"Little girl why are you crying? Inside of your cage of bones your weak little heart is dying.
Listen to the mean voices inside your head and maybe they'll set you free, smile for the stars so they can take your picture but smile big so they can't see your frown.
Always be perfect because someone is always watching."
My brain thought up a thought and I finally knew what the stream didn't mean to say.
I picked up my feet and began to run back to the place where I felt all alone.
I raised my head to the judgement filled sky just like the wolves and began to scream at the moon.
"Always be perfect because someone is always watching."
I snarled.
"I'm watching you and you're not perfect."
I howled to the moon.
"Your teeth are crooked and you're a sickly yellow not a gold."
I glare at the trees and laugh
"You are only broken."
I sang to the wolves
"This is your forest, be a king not a follower."
"I'm watching you"
I whisper.
This is one of my very first poems
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
God forgive me for I have sinned.

You gotta think outside the box.
So I did.
It got me locked in one.
Just because I wanted to leave reality I had to leave my city.

Baptism of fire.
Or a temperature of 103.

These prophets forcing me to drink wine.
Or red Gatorade to detox.

On the main floor we are all dressed the same but one claimed that she was Moses.

One claimed she brought down a giant with one stone.

Moses had a vision to part the red sea on her arm. So she did.  

David carried rocks in her pocket, she brought down her giant's with a spoon and lighter.

That first night I prayed.
I don't pray unless I need to. Believe me, I do everything in my power to never need to.

This place is not holy.

Would you believe me if I told you a 12 year old lives here because she chose to touch her brother in spiritual places.
I think the devil touched her.
She tells the workers that she wants to baby sit.

She tells me I'm too pretty to have asthma .

I tell myself 10 days until I'm home.

God forgive them, for they know not of what they have done.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
My headache is sitting next to me telling me things I already know.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I've got more branches so it's ok if you hang on to me.
At least I'm keeping your head up with the help of your rope just hang on you'll be ok.


No please keep breathing I know I've got a hold of only your neck but you're the one who hung yourself on me.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
Darling why haven't you left yet?
How can your bright eyes see so much in me?
Dear, how can you kiss my lips when such ***** words have lived there?
Lovely please stop crying.
You say you'll love me for the both of us.
You kiss the ground I stomp on.
You saved me and it's all your
I adore you, bright eyes.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
The wind is winding up to knock the air out of me, this is not a drill I repeat this is not a drill.
I pulled the fire alarm by not taking my medicine on purpose.
It just rubs me the right way to be able to ruin myself for one whole day.
Breaking my own neck to see if anybody is looking at me, ripping off my own nails trying to crawl away from the sickness in my head.
Its already got me.
In all reality this is a walk in the park.
I've been here before, I've felt this before.
But that's just too easy.
I've got to stay on my toes when my feet are nailed to the ground.
When I was younger I didn't know of emotions or how to control them, now they control me.
There's a dog fight going on in my head and I'm on the outside ramming my head against the wall begging them to stop, please just stop.
I believe dogs are better then most people and hearing them trying to die because they were taught to makes me sick.  
I don't have to see it, I am the animals.
Killing myself because I was taught by myself to win by dying.
I'm taking a walk in the park while a dying mutt hangs onto my neck trying to win.
This is happening while everybody else is happening but inside me
there is
punk rock hippy Aug 2014
He doesn't love me when I'm sad,
so sad I'll be.
This is not correct thinking
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I wonder if sheep look up at the sky and get sad.

They're crying for the other sheep to come back.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I used to tie knots in my dad's shoe laces when he came over, so he could stay for a minute longer.
I'd block the door until he raised his voice, then strain to hear his truck pull away.
Fishing line,
Hospital tubes,
And that belt I tried to ****** myself with last October have made knots that he could of untied.
But I never invited him to come over.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
****** noses and abortion.
Bars and a baby boy.
Ciggs and eye liner.
Your child is a ******* all because of you.
One mind driven by one thing.
Your talk is **** about cowardly things.
Jonesin’ so hard even M.r Jones is praying for you.

Let me tell you one thing, I will never end up like you.
I will do as you didn’t, so from my heart to your black hole, I swear to god I promise,
all you have to remember is,
punk rock hippy Jan 2015
My right wrist and left knee have come down with a cold and my viens have water damage.
My tongue tripped over my teeth leaving a ripped taste bud.
I can never get comfortable because I am  positive that Im going off the edge
and everything else is always just so dammed positive.
Just feed me medicine, and ill see you in the morning.
This is an oldie.
Don't know what to write about anymore
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I wear my heart on my wrist so i can cut out all the bad parts.
Two years clean
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
Don't go chasing the shadows my dear, they'll chase you right back.
They will chase you till you run out of your right mind.
They will chase you until you're insane.

But why run from yourself?
They're chained to your feet, you drag them wherever you go.

Pounds and pounds of absolutely nothing are holding you back.
Nothing can be the thing that kills you.
You're living for the price of two.

Only one thing can stop them from scratching at your ankles and that's the dark.
It doesn't stop them from whispering in your ear.

I dare you not to listen.

Even though you were sleeping they were whispering and I was listening.  

Sometimes the don't talk they only breathe, only to let you know that they are there.

So darling don't go chasing the shadows because they will come for you and you can't move you can't run.
One of my first poems again haha
Just trying to post them all so i can start fresh
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
The taste of my teeth is repulsive
All my fingers are jammed.

Blood should not be leaking in his head.

That red headed, freckled face kid was only doing the work of his god.

That broken nosed saint laying in his hospital bed.

I wonder if he wonders where his god went.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
When it hurts so much you expect blood to be drawn.
When it hurts so much you look for the bullet wound.

Maybe that's why people get confused and daw their own blood or when they get their own bullet and place it in their head.

It makes sense when your confused.
Why is it that people look for sense to be made when they're confused?

Maybe sense isn't to be made, its to be destroyed.
That's all, only destroyed.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I'm sitting in a tub full of water scratching at the skin that holds my organs together.

This isn't ******* poetry.

I'm sitting in a tub of my own dirt listening to my dog bark.
His frustration could be mistaken for artillery.

I swear to you this isn't poetry.

Bananas bruise to show that they're ready, I thought you should know that.

I think I'm ready.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I want to hit it hard, not romanticize about the blood ya feel me?
As you read that first line,
when you cross over to the second,
your nose will start to bleed just before my fist connects with your face.
I often dream about it, being feared.
The only reason that you're on the ground is because I put you there.
Quite frankly I'm fearful of myself.
My throat still holds the ache of the alcohol going down.
I swear to you I'm doing better.
I swear.

I can't swear in this house hold so I will talk so quickly creating run on sentences without punctuation or breath because I'm panicking over nothing in particular.


Add some shakes to your vocabulary and you've got it right.
My medication puts stray dogs under my finger nails, that's ok because dogs are happiness.
That's supposed to mean I'm happy.

I made myself write this, its horrifyingly scattered just like my head.

That's not right.
That's wrong.
Something is terribly wrong so I must fix it.

That's what I do,
I fix.
I'll just look at this as art.
Some persons trash is another ones treasure.

I'm too scared to write anymore.

This is garbage.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
He didn't tell me
Pucker up,
kiss your life goodbye, you know it wont stay.
He told me how to
Enhale the right way.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I'm going to sick the sickest parts of my mind after you.
Mental illness in a mutt is rabbies.  
Having the same ending,
recovery or death.
To me, there's no difference.  

Ever been hit by a truck?
Okay that's great.

You're currently being attacked by a mutt with a mental illness.
Rabid dogs and getting hit by trucks aren't that different to me.

I know, because I made him.

He grew teeth when I gave up.
He got his bark from scraped knees.
Every hair on that animal's body has a story.

Are you currently being attacked by a dog?
Okay, great.

Now I want you to figure out what's really attacking you,
Give that dog a name.
punk rock hippy Dec 2015
I'm going to sick the sickest parts of my mind after you.
Mental illness in a mutt is rabbies.  
Having the same ending,
recovery or death.
To me, there's no difference.  

Ever been hit by a truck?
Okay that's great.

You're currently being attacked by a mutt with a mental illness.
Rabid dogs and getting hit by trucks aren't that different to me.

I know, because I made him.

He grew teeth when I gave up.
He got his bark from scraped knees.
Every hair on that animal's body has a story.

Are you currently being attacked by a dog?
Okay, great.

Now I want you to figure out what's really attacking you,
Give that dog a name.
Totally posting this again. Yep.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
While I was sleeping, someone replaced every single hair of mine with fiber glass.

Everything rubs me wrong.
punk rock hippy Apr 2016
There's an earthquake going on inside me, my chest is the fault line, My stomach is a shoe lace factory, and  a tornado decided today was a great day to do tornado things.

Ya know? It really ***** when your lungs turn to vacuums and not the good kind, the kind of **** when you can hear sand knock around trying to find a way down. There's a sandstorm in your lungs and all you need is an inhaler, but breathing is easy so you don't need an inhaler.

My mom taught me how to handle this. She handles this.
She taught me cold weather can freeze this over.
But when this fails it can turn into tar and we know that tar is hotter than ****.

Are you aware that it doesn't work out when your stomach becomes a shoelace factory and a tornado happens to do tornado things?
My mom handles this. I asist.
Her guts turn to strings and don't do very gutsy things.
Her pancreas called in sick.
That was 3 years ago.
Her cheeks aren't very cheeky.
Her bones show through her skin.

Every now and then I feel the ground start to rumble and I wait for us to fall in.
She's my inhaler.
punk rock hippy Aug 2014
My mom used to put up sticky notes saying:
You are loved.
You are awesome!
God loves you.

They never got taken down, she's needs them now more then I do anyway.

I wrote her one and put it on her pillow.

She acted like the man upstairs wrote it.
She treats me like I'm the man upstairs.

I have not risen and I don't walk on ******* water.

I need to give her my sticky note that says:

Mom, I think god forgot about me.
Rambling just threw this together. Its a bunch of cow ****
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I can dodge the rain I'm so fast I can stand in the middle of the street and not be touched. I'm telling you this as I'm soaked.

You are like the canker sore in my mouth, I nudge at you trying to help then your heart and eyes go dry and a pain seeps on to my lip.

When I look into my dogs eyes I know I am a good person.

When I see the creases on my mother's face I know I have been a burden.

But right now I'm  sitting.
I never was standing in the rain, I ran
through it to get home.
Sometimes you need to say things to let people know things.

But I can dodge the rain.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I want your jaw to drop,
just like the man dropping dead in the middle of the street.
I want your breath to be stolen from your throat,
Just like the sickness stole my hope.
You’re going to ache for what I have to tell you next.
I’ll leave you hanging just like the boy hung from the tree in the park.
He took his life.
Ill take the rest of this, but in the end I’m left with nothing.
You’re left with your mouth hanging open and with no breath in your lungs.
You look just like the boy in the park.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
Is it suicide to hire someone to **** you?
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I can choose where to put my bruises.
I chose to run the bath water a little to hot so my skin could know what it feels like inside my head.
I just want to let everyone know that i know.
They can stop telling me every breath I had made was wrong.
I've been doing this breathing thing for quite a while.
Replace breathing with living and now you've got it.
I think I should rip my eyelids off so I can't stop seeing what I've done.
Maybe carve it into my legs for a reminder that I carried myself away.
I just want you to know that I know.
I have bruises on my knees and I don't know how they got there.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
To whom it may concern,
Let me start off with I'm very concerned.
I'm not her and she's not even close to being me but I'll put myself in her pants and tell you what you need to hear.
I've got my nerve right here in my fist and ive got my guts in the other.
You've got nothing on me.
I'll give you something so you have anything.
Open your hands and I'll give you what's in mine.
I will rip you to shreds just watch me.
You're weak inside I can see it by the way you try to leave everything on me.

My intentions are no good.

I will place my words like mines.
I will make my sentences so absurdly stunning you'll just stop mid breath, I'll take your air like you took her pride.
You do not want me to be concerned about you or I will become you.
I'll even take your pants
punk rock hippy Oct 2014
I'm in love with 60% of water, 206 bones, and everything in between.
Hear me out when I say I have what you need.
Im so in love with you
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I'm terrified of the dark but I love closing my eyes to sleep.
If I can't see you,you can't see me.
You couldn't change me even if you changed the direction of my bones.
Even if you tore out my throat and wore it around.

Your not there, if I can't see you, you can't see me.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
A new born calf could walk through any situation easier then I ever would. Instincts.
It knows to get up and walk all I know is that I lock my knees.
I'm a deer in headlights when the waitress asks me what I want to drink.


My medication causes this.

I don't dare to fix it because I'd **** to stutter in front of the whole dinner table rather than being sad again.
I'm not going back there again
punk rock hippy Aug 2014
Lock jawed.
Cuz when it rains it ******* pours.
Sleeping in dead fruit flies.
Choking on bug spray that killed said flies.
I need a job.

Praying for a god ****** miracle.
Im praying for a miracle.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I'm four years old searching for bugs, lizards and frogs then putting them in boxes because I wanted to be like god.
They never lived long.
I buried my pet frog then dug him up to see what death really looked like.
I'm eight years old getting baptized in holy water, my uncle puts me under. They say all my sins have been washed away but I still feel the same. My dad wore his suit and walked like God.

I'm twelve years old behind home plate wearing my battle gear and scabbed knees, look dad! Did you see that catch?  I thought it was beautiful. He says I'm leader of the team.
I'm fifteen years old being swept in to this strong boys arms. All I wanted was my dad. He never taught me the different between a boy and a man.
I'm fifteen and a half, sitting at the park high, pathetically high. My lungs are cussing me out right about now.

I'm fifteen and three quarters being sent to rehab for trying to die because of a boy that was nothing close to being a man.
He left me with ******* in my system

I'm sixteen years old and I found myself a man. He's my NA meeting whenever I need it. He reminds me of my dad.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
It takes two to make a couple.
What do I have?
A single? I have two singles so doesn't that make a double.
A daddy and a mommy, that's what I'm ment to have right?
But what happens when we walk out on daddy?

We got out of there so fast some people thought we were waiting for the right minute or right second.
We go out of there so fast she forgot to leave his last name.
She still wears it to this day.

Some people might think its right or its dead wrong.
I think it's black and white.

His heart was in the mountains, hers was in the hospital chained up to all the machines.
He broke free but we're the ones who left.

His heart is still on the mountain and hers is in her chest.

Dad had to be mom but mom couldn't be dad, he was nowhere to be lost and nowhere to be found.

They used to yell like it was the law, or maybe they liked the sound of their own voices a little too much.
He never laid a finger on her, I think she was waiting for him to.
She was waiting for that right minute or second.

Some people thought he might.
I knew he wouldn't just like black from white.

Bless that childhood.
Bless that house.
Bless not being able to remember.

Remembering is one thing while reliving is another. Everyday you've gotta relive it.  

No one will understand why my dad's eyes look like the hospital lights.
I think it's cuz he used to look at the dead tile waiting for mom.
They just got stuck in his eyes.

Maybe it's the moon, it shines bright enough.
He can see the moon perfectly from his mountain.
His hearts there.  
I know it ain't here.

When we left I dropped my heart on the mountain. We left so fast I didn't know what to do.
My heart didn't know nothing.
Not even black from white.
Its sorta grey.

The last thing my dad saw was my braid swinging from left to right.
My daddy could braid just as perfect as black and white.
One of my first poems
Love you dad
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
Is it normal to think, just because my head is aching, maybe just maybe there could be some blood that's not ment to be there or a tumor or maybe its cancer. The head ache will always go away.
Is it okay to pick at my freckles until my nails are filled with skin? A scar can cover any blemish I've learned.
Is it odd that I hear voices in my head and im convinced I have schizophrenia but I've figured out it's just me myself and I trying to get my two cents in, or maybe it's just cancer. I always end up finding myself talking to just one person at the end of the day.
Do you think its weird that I have it planned out perfectly for when the Koreans come? I practice fighting in my head until I fall asleep. I know they're coming so we're all ok.
Would you leave if you knew I diagnosed your family?
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
My mother and father are two different breeds.
I'm the most mixed up mutt you'll ever see.

I've got his teeth, thank god.
My mamma gave me bloodshot eyes and the entitlement to want to die.
I care about complete strangers because of that women.
I mimic that old man's cowardly stance.
A four year father and then he ran.
My last name hangs above my head so I'll wear my hand me downs the best I can.
punk rock hippy Nov 2015
Just cuz my boss is a jack ***,
Or cuz my mom's words are slurring,

I might say I don't love you anymore.

Or I might shower in water that's a degree above committing adultery with the sun, and a degree below my blood steadily starting to boil.
I can feel everything that's ever touched me leave me.

Lemme tell ya how I can turn a come love me into a don't you ******* touch me.

If my clothes touch me wrong
It's ruined.
If the nothing I smell is wrong.
It's ruined.

I'm a touchy shower setting in a different language on opposite day, im nights sweats, an ice cube stuck on the tip of your tongue.

All or nothing.
Give it your all or you'll be Nadda.

I honestly can't tell you if I'm getting better or if I'm just running faster.
I just know that this water is turning my skin into leather.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I allowed you to come onto my level.
You never came down.
You wrote me one letter when I was being punished for trying to ****** myself.
One letter.
I was your god, taking you from reality, making you swallow this smoke.
It swallowed me,
Smoke detectors were going off in my head,
I chose to sit in the fire and load another bowl.
Some boy came and put the fire out.
Saved my melting hair and sorta kind of made me love the skin I'm in.
We're on two different levels, I'm just waiting for you to come down.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I'm a walking weapon.

Did ya know I can **** giants?

I slaughtered something giant in my mothers heart  when she overheard me playing with the devil.

You can't spell slaughter without laughter.
punk rock hippy Aug 2014
I know for a fact that it's getting bad again.
Its getting bad again.
Its bad again.
I want to get high again.
Just let me get high again.
God ****** it won't happen again.
Its happening again.
Ring around the rosies pocket full of posies ashes ashes watch me ******* fall down
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
I'm a knock off brand of bipolar.
Prescribed with a mood stabilizer.
I shouldn't have to take pills to be normal.
Pills shouldn't be mixed with pills.
Side affects become the problem.

I'm a dammed race horse, spooked on a track when I see a stray piece of my own hair.
The walls and floor move because of my past addictions.
I can make myself sweat by only thinking it's too hot.
Protecting strangers just to protect.

I could take pills for that, but I'm sitting right here with my side affects.

Medication gives different perceptions.
Different life's to live, I'll just keep taking my dosage because I will not start over again.
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
Ever had an itch that won't scratch.
Its under your skin, in your blood stream or bone marrow.

That feeling walks down your skin.
Your brain fights back by slamming hand down trying to break the surface.

Your nails turn a dark screaming pink.

All you're  doing is clawing at a crimson red.

You're red handed because that itch wouldn't scratch.
One of my first poems
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
Hallucinating for a cause.
Seeing how I act unconscious.

Mom I swear to god I'm fine!
This is research.  
I'm closet to god when I sleep. I thought you  wanted that?

My studies show that I can't throw a ******* punch when under attack.

My knees lock up at the exact moment it's time to run.

My screams can't leave my teeth.  

I watch this wide awake while sleeping.

I can't find god anywhere,
I believe in him
He doesn't believe in me.

When I dream
I don't just dream.
punk rock hippy Aug 2014
I think everyone has a little bit of schizophrenia.
Maybe it’s just the demons trying to whisper you out of your secrets.
There’s always a reason for the voices.
There’s always reason for the reasons.
The voices talk when my eyes go blood shot. Reality left as soon as I did.
I left when my compassion did.
I keep leaving, its called rebellion.
Can you see it?
I scream it.
I wear it.
I sing it to myself as a prayer.

My rotten prayer.

Join me?
Raise **** with me?
Lets find my lost compassion while we’re creating yours.
I think we could find the answer to everything if we don’t question anything.

I’ll find the answers, I promise.
This is old
punk rock hippy Jul 2014
She slowly marches up to the mirror lining up for battle, people may ask who she is fighting with, I'd say she's fighting with herself.
She's at war with herself.
She raises her hand pointing at the mirror accusingly.
Her hazel eyes stare.
Whispering her battle cry the mirror mimics her every move.
"Suicide they scream. Help me they beg."
They rob my of my answers and take off running. They grab onto me while I'm already drowning, then yell at me for struggling.
I act strong and brave.
People need a leader right? I can't remember the last time somebody asked me if I was alright.
Last time I checked I was a wreck.  
They scream riddles for me to solve threatening that death is the answer.
They get furious when I chase it away from their weak necks. I act brave.
I act strong.
I act like I can help but in all things that are true I'm just a girl at battle with herself.
Scream me another riddle before I drown.
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