Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.

'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the color that it is;
Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable color of his hair.

Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they're taking him to justice for the color of his hair.

Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet,
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labor in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the color of his hair.

Screaming "I don't care"
At the top of my lungs
No feelings or emotions
Easily roll off my tongue

Gonna leave me?
Left alone to soak in my misery?
That's my definition of sanity

Maybe it has something to do with
Being knocked unconscious at fourteen
Taken advantage of
But I only remember in my dreams
Then I wake up with no memory

I don't understand how I'm startled so easily
A simple figure of a man,
All of a sudden, standing anywhere near me
I jump, scream and can barely breathe
Even when I know it's the man that loves me
And would never intentionally hurt me

Panic flows continuously through me
Excessive amounts of anxiety
It's not really a new thing
Not really something anyone can explain
You could guess, make assumptions or try to diagnos me
But I don't think anyone could truly understand the pain

*I'm not so sure if no emotions is really a good thing...

Looking at pictures of your ex
on Facebook at three o’clock
in the morning never helped anyone
my mother says with her bittersweet
chocolate voice flowing
through the phone.

But she can’t remember
the time when he took me to the fair
and won me a sickly carnival fish
swimming in circles, banging
its head on the glass
of a too-small fishbowl
filled with icy blue water.
We named him Bear
so he would grow
big and strong
fed him all the love
we could muster up.

The best we could give
was an old plastic cup
much too small for love
to grow the way it needs to.
I looked into the fish’s blank eyes
and saw a piece of me
I had not seen before
and in the morning
there he was belly-up,
eyes blank as before.

He said sometimes
that's just what happens
when you love someone
too much.
He was right.