What ship, puzzled at sea, cons for the true reckoning?
Or, coming in, to avoid the bars, and follow the channel, a perfect pilot needs?
Here, sailor! Here, ship! take aboard the most perfect pilot,
Whom, in a little boat, putting off, and rowing, I, hailing you, offer.

They tell me I'm crazy but I think that's a bit of an overstatment I mean it's not my fault there isn't enough air in this room to breathe.

i want to scream in your face
because of what you say
stop being him
stop being him
i am not a game
can't we just be straightforward
for one **** conversation
stop dancing around me
stop fishing me in and giving me slack
i want to scream in your face

I feel your eyes, trained on my back and lower.
Pretending not to notice, I keep a steady pace.
The click of my heels beat with the staccato of my heart.

I lost myself sometime back in September,
I don't remember if it was by the school or in my car,
The grocery store parking lot.
Something like that.

I must have escaped suddenly,
I barely noticed until my chest felt too hollow to pound at the sight of the ocean waves crashing to the shore,
My hands were always awkward and confused,
Not knowing their place in social situations,
Pockets?

I went to a party in November with a plot already in my head,
Tied my white converse together with loose morals,
Too much makeup on.
No time for small talk,
"Don't play games"
"You know what I'm here for"
I don't know why I was there though.


Almost January and I guess I found a way back to myself,
In my own bed covered in blankets to hide the shame
On the phone with Brian.
He kept telling me I was somebody's child,
And what was I doing to somebody's child?
What an odd ******* thing to say.

But I started missing myself more than I ever thought possible,
And flooding back in harder than the rain hitting my window pane.

early in the morning

in your dark room

drinking ***

our skin touches

our lips in-tangled

heavy breathing

high moaning

love making

at its finest