She's restless...

She beats only for the sake of her lungs..

Yet again, it comes to this...
Defeat.
A battle she knew she'd lose.
Another memory to bury

Each thought escaping
Lingers just enough to get her to sink.

When will his drug leave her veins.
How long this time til she's clean of this..

Yet again..

Please stop hurting yourself my love
Let me take this from you
Your eyes have yet to see true pain
True heartache
I can't tell you enough how much better it will be
How much harder things will get
How satisfying success is
How the defeats are devastating
How you will continue to pick yourself up
And knock your own self down
The trials and tribulations are real
But the glory is so powerful
So prevailing
So please stop hurting yourself my dear
You will see true pain
In a few short years.

They held your hands and you ignore
I offered mine and you held it
What was that for?
A sign that you love it?

Reminiscing the old year
We are like more than peers
Joy was the meaning of our tears
And though happy we never drank a single beer

That's what we are a year ago
You told me to stay and I never let go
You wish we're like these
'til months and years
And decade and five years

A *** can never separate us
Even with a heavy creepy fuss
But that's in the life's happiest past
When in your movie,
*I was the main cast

I think the worst of it
Is that you.. forget
Who you were before
Memories slip away
And feelings
Until you're left with this
Vague sense, this innate
Understanding
That you used to be more
You used to be something
With more substance
Than this *ghost

Spending a month in a hospital teaches you a lot about people.
The doctor that told me to shave my head or she wouldn't treat me,
The nurses that spent forever chatting to me
And giving me supportive advice about how my illness doesn't define me.
The woman who was given a terminal cancer sentence
And chose not to pay attention to it and defied it anyway.
How she sat next to me on my bed,
Told me that all suffering is valid,
And just because I'm not dying, doesn't mean I don't get to complain.
How she complains more about her skin problems
Than she ever complained about her cancer,
And that's OK, because pain rarely follows rules.
I never even learned her name,
But she gave me the words I hold most closely to me
On those days when I want to fall asleep and never wake up.
I'm allowed to scream and shout and rage against the pain
And the unfairness of it happening to me.
I just have to make sure I know where the line is
Between giving my darkness a voice and pitying myself.