Roses have their thorns;
In your clear sky,
*I'm the storm.

i'm not nice to myself
i'm not kind to myself
i'm not proud of myself*

how do you expect me to love myself?

What* am I going to do with myself?
There's this crushing weight where my lungs should be,
a sinking feeling when there's solid ground;
I can't breathe and all I can do is choke back my tears,
I'm drowning but I'm above ground where everyone else is
                                                              ­                             inhaling
                                                      ­                                         *e x h a l  i   n   g

blink blink blink

red.
                 *stop
                                        pause.
yellow.
   ­              slow down
                                        calm down.
green.
                 go
                                        move on.

pause.
breathe.
move
on.
don't look
back.
you don't need
them.
they'll see.