awoken by your lullaby
i find myself on the sand
the waves crash
the wind blows
where am I?
who knows

speaking is a performance
the moment someone listens i'm put on a stage
with a little number in the corner of my view
grading my performance
grading how well i do

so when the audience goes home
and they all fall asleep
it leaves just my mirror and I
and the clock that reads three
practicing,
practicing,
just talking
to me

and though i ramble and ramble
as if someone were there
i enjoy that i am alone
that no one is there
to hear the last mistake i just made
:)







....................









oh my god were you listening to me the entire time-

I've always desired to become older
to become stronger, more experienced, more alive,
so that they would listen
so that my pain would have meaning
so that every time I cried it was worth making a noise

but here I am.

the migraines last longer.
my patience runs shorter.
if a sleep a moment past two I fall apart-
I am weak.
and haven't improved the slightest since then.
I can work a million years and run a million miles,
chasing those dreams and the warmth of their fleeting joy,
but I'll always come back to you,
my stupid,
original self.
because no one cares if a baby were to cry,
such a thing is normal.
your pain is normal; there are those who have it worse
therefore I will ignore you, as you are worthless,
and I lose none when you are in pain.
I have nothing left to bargain,
to make you feel the need to care,
you looked behind the curtain,
you know me too well.

My lies no longer enchant you.
You know how worthless I am.

And so here I am,
sitting in square one
with tears that pass by discreetly,
falling in their silence.