Broken battered
Woken shattered
Descriptive of a time
Insisted to be fine
Left alone and your will to pray
Lost somewhere along the way

Your will to live
Your will to try
Your will to push on
Your will to strive
The will to get up and be alive astray
Lost somewhere along the way

Trials and stipulations
Walked miles for conversations
Memories of a hope once left at bay
All lost somewhere along the way

Try to run try to hide
Keep your chin up
But you're dead inside
Wear that smile and to everyone youll show it
Because youve already died and they just don't know it
The feelings all numb and
The liquore bottle full
Pour up a drink here here let me say
All of your life was lost somewhere along the way

I've wasted so many 'I love you's' on the wrong person that I can't say it anymore.

I choke.

Unless, I am drunk.
But let's face it I love everyone when I'm drunk.

I go places where no one knows my name, for once I can live my fantasy of being /THAT/ girl -
mysterious, cool, no one.
And no one knows my flaws.

I go so long being no one I forget my own name,
and I love it.
I relish in the feeling that I can be non-existent without dying.
Because I'd rather be literally anyone than whoever I am right now.
Nobody here knows how terrible I am at communicating my emotions.
How horrible I am.

Leave me alone long enough and I'l create my own friends, family, pets and even love interests.
I will break my own heart in more ways, you'll never know -
You'll never understand!
How lovely and torturous it is to be this lonely.

To go through 5 relationships in one day and to be the source of all your own suffering, yet still find ways to place your anger in a bottle of wine.

You see, because I was never in love with you.
I fell in love with the idea of you.

Powder blue knuckles
I knock them against my glass
The sound is the buzzing of mosquitoes
Beckoning me to swallow

I'm that age that suicide comes up in casual conversation.
One half of the room thinks its selfish.
The other half are dead.
I'm that age that your doctors don't give a ****.
Because all the 20 somethings are healthy.
Except the ones that aren't.
I'm that age when my parents want grandkids.
Me too Mom, but life is funny like that, I guess.
I'm that age that all my friends are drunk or depressed.
But most of the time its both.
And we are toeing the line of fun and alcoholism.
I'm that age when I should get a better job.
But the job wants experience.
Which is why I need the job.
I'm that age that is responsible for killing the radio store.
And chain restaraunts
And literally everything else that I can't afford
So who cares if its dead?
I'm that age stuck in the honeymoon phase.
But the honeymoon phase wasn't great to begin with.
And God forbid that it ever ends.
I'm that age that shows up in all the statistics.
Ya know, the ones about failing marriages
Single parents with no idea who the father is.
Or another name written in black, carved into a headstone.
I'm that age that I never expected to survive to.
So now I'm confused.
What was I supposed to do
when 18 came and I was still alive?
I barely saw sixteen, and I have to do this for 50 more years.
I'm that age that knows how to set up my elderly neighbor's Facebook
but I can't figure out how to save enough money
That I won't end up homeless if I come down with cancer.
I'm that age that has a plethora of information at my fingertips,
the musings of Socrates and the masterpieces of Mozart.
But I watch 6 second videos because my attention span was stolen
by the drugs I was put on
to sit still in class so I could learn about paralellograms.
I'm that age that I'm supposed to have my **** together.
But honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing.
Just trying to make it to Friday,
so I can drink away the mistakes I've made.
I guess I'm just at that age.

Alcoholic,
That's what I am.
Numb,
That's the brand.
Comfort,
That's all I want.
Memories,
That's what you haunt.
Escape,
That's what I try.
Inside,
That's where I die.

Feelings are like ****.
I tried to flush them, gin, Jack, ***,
but **** is **** and with enough liquid it doesn't sink.
It  comes to the surface.

Suffocating in my problems,
At the bottom of the bottle,
And yeah maybe I got a problem,
Or maybe I'm a psychopath,
Because my doctor's convinced,
It wasn't me it was the medications,
So am I crazy and addicted,
or am I just plain insane in the head?

Slit my wrists and close my eyes,
Take me away to the heaven they call paradise,
Because this world I'm living in is surely hell,
So someone please send me some ******* help,

Will my drawer full of containers,
That once had cough syrup,
Convince you of my issues,
Or do I need to pull out the tissues?
Please I'm drowning in myself,
Choking on my self hatred and doubt,
That I really need to get admitted,
I've got problem, can't admit it,

Slit my wrists and close my eyes,
Take me away to the heaven they call paradise,
Because this world I'm living in is surely hell,
So someone please send me some ******* help,

Down a bottle of these pills and sleep,
Take me away to a place with endless sheep,
To count and comfort me, because I find such little here,
Someone please send me there, send me there, send me there.

the day i saw my mother's soul
she was tied to her hospital gurney -
her mouth cracked open and dry,
lips and teeth bloodied rusty brown.

i called her name, and for god only knows
what reason, she turned her head toward me.
nightmarish.  eyes deadened.  glassy.
blue irises.  yellowed whites.  dull.  lifeless.

she weeps.  moaning and tossing in her bed.
she can't speak but her eyes beg 'save me, i'm hurting,
i'm dying,' as she looks-but-doesn't-see me.
i don't know that i can save her

and to be honest: part of me is trying.
but another part has learned how to live
without her.  just to be safe (after all - do you know
how sad it is to grieve the loss of the living?).

i know i've hurt her.
maybe more than she's hurt me.
and i'm ******* ****** at the cosmic way this
is playing out.  no one wins.  what a *******.

the day i saw my mother's soul
i sat in my car and cried all the way home.
"the light that you could never see;
it burns inside you can't take that from me."

if she only lives to tell.