I'm a million different people
Each day
Sweet to bitter
Maniac to recluse
Dead to undying
But the destruction is always
There
With me wherever I go
So I went somewhere new

Cut off my hands
Sever my spine
So I don't act on my
Impulses toNight

The call of the void
The violent possibilities to violet
Situations, like

The lights of the
Night box
And I'm dancing
Always dancing
Dancing
And I took the money
And I kissed a stranger
And cheated on the game
I drank something strange
The spider on my wrist
Has multiplied

Throw it
What?
Fall down
Why?
dO It

Is this really happening?

I'm drowning in my stream of consciousness
There is
gliTch
In my system

And the lights are more purple
Than they have ever been
And my Instincts
Tell me to run

But the man in black
Calls to me
And he is insatiable

So I went to him
And he drank me dry
And we danced together
And I am undying
With a stranger

Is this really happening?

My skin isn't mine
The music made me deaf
But I'm still dancing
And I'm still craving

Stranger than I have ever been
Because I am no longer

aLive

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

i am becoming strange
who is stranger
me or the girl i dont know
sitting next to me
on the bus

my hands shake
as i try to remember
your telephone number
at the corner payphone

i keep on glitching
itching and twitching
and i miss-dial your number
and my quarter is wasted

i slept with a stranger
girl than i remember
but not how you think
it was that she fell down
in the middle of the party
and the glitching and twitching
reminded me of you
so i carried her
and put her
in my spare bedroom
and that was it

when she left
i went back to the payphone
to tell you about it
my my hands were still shaking
and i miss-dialed your number
but it went to your mother
who explained to me again
why you can't pick up

she said you slept
in a nice box downtown
after you got too drunk
and your bike hit a truck

i said that i remember
how you glitched and twitched
how you were hospitalized
for a week or two
and then when you got out
you forgot to call me

she told me that you cant call
anymore
because you sleep
in a nice box downtown
with your grandma and uncle

after she hung up
i went to talk to you
in this nice box downtown
but before i got there
i got too drunk
and my bike hit a truck
and now i can see you
in your nice box downtown

but you still
dont return
my calls

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

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

Kissing the lips of a cigarette
Before I kiss another
Doesn't bother me too much
I guess I just relish the ritual
The self-destructive flame
Lighting up my lungs, my brain
For the first time since my soul died
A colorless dream
Breathing out the smoke like a child
Pretending to be a dragon
On the first day of December
The nostalgic bite in my throat
Reminds me of both

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

I'm Bitter
like the coffee
stains on your teeth
scars on my legs
no Difference

I'm Bitter
with a twist of metal
tastes like blood
on the skin of your teeth
down the side of my arm
no Difference

I'm Bitter
because I am alone
no sweet soul has mingled
intertwined with mine
my dull grey eyes
the sweater you stole
no Difference

I'm Bitter
because my showers sting
and my wrists itch
and my pants are long
and my love life is gone
and you won't let me go
let me Go
let me Subside
let me Drown  
no Difference

My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
I've spent so long sleeping but paranoid
Too many vices, I chose temperance

Vapid flings give way to the perilous
My slow conversations with life devoid
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous

One edge is straight, a knife, my preference
Trivial suffering makes me avoid
Too many vices, I chose temperance

I've cloaked myself, remain ambiguous
So, in midday, I have tempted the void
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous

No addiction equates to elegance
What is the point in a teen self destroyed
Too many vices, I chose temperance

With depression, I remain decorous
My mind flirts with bloodstains and carcinoids
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
Too many vices, I chose temperance

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