what's it like to be happy,
but still always crying?
what's it like to be alive,
but still feel like dying?

what's it like to feel normal
when your "normal" is "ill"?
what's it like to be restless
but forced to sit still?

I'll tell you what it's like,
it's hell and a half,
to be 17 and fading
from rainbow to black.

watching yourself wither,
watching your mother cry,
tell me, what's the point in waking
when it hurts to be alive?

I try to hope for the best
but you know how it goes;
you can't smell the roses
through the blood from your nose.

It feels like God is picking on me,
saying "Haha look at you!
I'm going to give you the grandest dreams
but you'll be gone by 32."

But keep your head high,
and your shoulders never low,
so can you walk with courage into the fire
when it's finally time to go.

tried and true,
this pain is not new,
I welcome it like a friend,

I seem to know,
but never show,
the cognizance of my own end.

kicking and screaming,
the sun stops gleaming,
but i know of the ocean's fare.

the lighthouse is dying,
the stratus are crying,
I am stripped down and left to bare.

bandage to wound,
with red seeping through,
I stand on broken toes.

but no one is there,
not a sound in the air,
and I remain alone with only my woes.

I know that I am not her,
I know that she is not me,
And I know that if you had more choices,
By my side you would not be.

I know that I am not pretty,
I know that I am not kind,
And I know that sometimes my mouth
Is bigger than my mind.

Someday you'll see all these things,
and run with counts collected,
But I really cannot say
That it's not what I expected,

My head and chest are aching,
My fragile frame is shaking,
I'm holding my chest and gasping for breaths
That are no longer worth the taking.

A strong ship stays sailing a'mast
Across the brutal ocean,
But when at last returned to port,
The frame is surely broken.

As if I wasn't already gone,
I'll search for what is left.
I'm taking strides out the door now,
Though they feel like tiny steps.

A paper bag will do no good
To hold the shattered parts,
I guess that's what I ought to get
For giving you my heart.

There's no proper way to feel at a time like this,
But is it proper to feel nothing at all?

Numb, empty, drifting

I guess my mind doesn't take thought to what's proper.

What a shame.

I used to wish I was in his arms.
Dream about them.
And in my days:
always think about them.
It was warmth
     and love
           and life.

Now they feel like briar patches,
And every time we touch, I bleed.
it was worth it to me until
I saw I was running out of bandages.

But still I run my fingers through his hair
And let him kiss my tears
And it's bittersweet how much you can love someone and hate them at the same time

it took 2 pills of Xanax and 6 glasses of wine to stop crying over him and it took 4 doses of NyQuil and 2 Vicodin to forget him but it only took a seeing his name on the screen of my phone to shake my body like a earthquake and rattle my soul into remission