It hurts sometimes
It screams inside
Is this pain really mine?
It clenches together in my insides
Making me dream, wishing for a better time.
I'll do just fine
That's always my line.
If something's not there
You're supposed to bring yourself to it,
But what can I seek
when whatever I need
ceases to exist out of my mind?
They say my reckless head helps me,
I tell myself I can use it to encourage myself,
But still it hurts me all the same.
You see, I use it to give what I haven't got
It's of no use because it kills with a slightly stronger dose.

I can try to forget
It can't last long,
Nothing's supposed to be pain free.
However there's other things
I just can't be bothered to feel,
And if I almost do I just stop:
Because they're not the most important;
They don't come back day by day,
Just to join me in the night.
I never had a "daddy" to sing a lullaby.
For years I didn't want one,
Half convinced still I wasn't missing out,
Yet now it's starting to hurt
Then I realise I'll never find my soulmate.
The percentage isn't in my favour,
How could it ever be?
How do you find your one person
out of 7.5 billion?
If I can't have a father,
how could I get an eternal partner?
Lacking strengthens my need,
For that perfect guy in my head to love me.
He's not here though,
And he never will be,
Tough as it is, I'll never be away from him.
Lack creates need,
tries to make up for things:
This is how it feels when you can't fill either gap.

Spaces are filled by made up places.
Spaces are areas without meaning,
Places are of meaning or association, unempty.
The space is one half of a non-existing f a m i l y.
My place is where I can have a future boyfriend made of better things.
My reckless head
Is supposed to give hope and safety,
Shelter me from reality.
My reckless head
Don't they know it breaks me,
To dream of things
That can never be?

Spaces are there.
Places are put there.
Needed
Unwanted
Despair
Desired
Anyone else there?
Is there a difference that you see?
All my minor sorrows seem the same to me.

on Orion's belt, she spends her wish
though he hangs there, unfalling, why wait,
she wonders, why wish on empty air
(she forgets, though, that even Orion,
brightest warrior, isn't really there)

and she dreams in most conventional
metaphors, and she scolds herself: her
unconscious architect
would not be commissioned for the
Golden Gate Bridge, or anything, if you
know
what I mean

when she closes her eyes (awake)
she sees the colors like his synesthesia
though he kept his finger paintings locked away
and his fingers without prints
never there (he's never there)

and good mornings come in pairs
and nights look unempty (don't tell
her what they are)
why wait, she wonders

god forbid you wait

She was tragically sad in a way that I was but couldnt afford to have tattooed on me because im african and no one has time for internal misery when there are kids with flies on the look out for something to unempty their bellies, you know stuff you see on telly  
She had blond curly hair and we had the mutal understanding that bus rides were where we went to check on our selves, see how well we had supressed the demons for that day or week or past ten years
When I was going through my episodes I'd reinvent myself by establishing a new laugh
"Does this make me sound happier"
She would decide she was moving to india but never really left the university or ended up in brixton
Thats heres india if you cant afford the real thing
We would go for months without speaking and she would show up At my door with dark brown tresses dyed to conseal the misfortunes, unrequited loves and abortions
And I would put together the potions to help us through. No bus rides. just camomile teas and rouge lipsticks  
Sit at cafe rouge and pretend to be happy old ladies meeting to exchange photographs of our grandchildren