I have disappeared
Into a small town
In a desert
With a purple sun
And an indigo sky
This town is called Night Vale
And I think
I may have found
My home

I can feel
Fear begin
To take hold of me

With almost every pulse
Of my weak heart
I can feel it with me
Like the remnants of drugs I created

Fear of nighttime
Or rather who takes its veil
And hides behind it
Outside of my window
In the places that we all don't dare to check

Fear of consciousness
As in sitting in a room
Where noise replaces oxygen
And being separated from
Any action or conversation
By a thick, bulletproof glass wall

Fear of conspicuousness
Like when you know
As you are doing something
That is secret or covert
You can feel eyes on your back
And you realize
That it is all over

Fear of loss
When everything is good
And your soul is finally mending
And your plans are unseen
But that sinking feeling
Settles in your stomach
18 hours later
The comfortable, warm feeling is stolen

My fears are more faithful
Than friends or lovers or family
They'll never leave me
Never let me feel alone
They stay awake with me
When it's two AM
And I'm frozen in my bed
Waiting...
for another sound

The people
I hate most
have all
of the qualities
that I hate
about myself

You inspire me
Not in the cliche way
The girl with the troubled past
Inspires the artist boy with the tattoo
And they fall in love
Just like in all the movies
I find myself writing about you
When I sit down at my desk
To do homework
Or poetry
Or sing
And I know we only have
A certain amount of time together
(You will graduate soon
and my mother won't let me see you
and my emails will go to the wrong address
and my calls will go to your brother
instead of you)
And that time
Seems to be slipping away from us
As 15 turns to 16
And as smoke turns to vapor
But I am determined
To capture every moment we have together
Photographs, sharpie stains, swapped clothes
Until they all run away from us
Down the 3rd floor hallway
Of building D
In size 7.5 platform shoes
And a white pirate shirt
Like the one on the cover
Of a 90 cent romance novel

I know sometimes
That we aren't good for each other
Like that time I brought you to tears
When we were with Jess
Or that time you let me smoke
And my mom
Almost pulled me out of school
But I really couldn't care less
Because I will take these moments
In their smokey, tear drop depression
And I will keep them
With the rest of the things
That remind me of you

sometimes
i forget who i am
not my name or location
just what sets me apart
due to desire
to be more like someone else

i just have to remember
i am an escapist
i am a vagrant
i am a writer
i am a pyromaniac
i am an inhabitant of purgatory
i am half living
i am an addict
i am a statistic
i am a radio wave surfer
i am a bridge burner
i am a coffee stain
i am two young lungs

i am the girl across the hallway
in an old jean jacket
with paint on her cheek
trying not to cry

and i hope someone remembers
because i'm trying to forget
that i exist
to make it unreal