When I was just a little girl
I knew something about me wasn't right
I spent most of my days angry
and I couldn't sleep at night
I found myself looking in the mirror at the age of nine
thinking to myself that I was fat
I thought that way until the age of thirteen
and that's when things got really bad
I spent most of my days sitting in my walk-in closet
writing poems as Green day blasted in my ears
I'd sit in the shower and cut myself
and let my blood collide with my tears
Not letting myself eat gave me some control
on what I was feeling all of the time
Even though I was always hurting
I would smile and tell everyone that I was fine
I poured my heart into my writing
everything made sense on paper
I felt relieved in some ways
when others treated me like a social loser
I was alone in this world of confusion I couldn't understand myself
All I could do was cry
because I was different from everybody else
The scars on me do not scare me
they remind me that I am not crazy
They remind me that I am human
with a past that is really messy
I still don't know what is wrong with me
if I could fix myself I would
Whatever I have will always be a part of
causing me to always be misunderstood.

It is said that insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results

Call me crazy because I will repeatedly repeat and never learn

Maybe I don't want to learn because I love the cycle of yes and no and mostly no

Even though it kills us both
We are insane because we know that it is wrong and that's the way it has to go
And yet we try, and don't try again and again
And the pen etches into the page the same stanzas

The monotony sounds like harmony
Because in our insanity we are happier and unhappier than we will ever be

I would rather die waiting for change than to be without your sweet disappointment

To relent and reclaim my sanity would be a tragedy because I would have to write new stanzas and my pen is too in love with our poetry, to welcome a new subject

For the sake of my pen (at risk of her heartbreak) I will reject the cry inside of me to run to reality

While the hurricane proves pathetic fallacy outside of our window
We breathe lunacy and embrace


Insanity

Everything is on fire
My head and the blankets conspire
They band together to avoid tragedy
We're one ******* up anatomy
The windows are painted shut now
And no one seems to know how
We ended up on the bathroom floor
When just yesterday you swore
Not to drink anymore
I jumped into the sky
That night when I got high
And ripped open the seems
I broke all of your dreams
See, the sky was bleeding in my hand
The cuts were filling up with sand
There is nothing plural about me and my broken heart
It's me and I am my broken heart
I did not know from the start
That his hair would taste like the sky's blood
That I would lying here in the mud
That her body would make a thud
And return to me in ribbons
Our secrets rest in prisons
That glass of ***** is the cell key
And why I beg you to come back for me
I can't stay up late like I used to
Sleep is the only escape from you
Now go do what you have to