Do you ever feel like your story is being written for you?
Maybe that’s why I write—
because when I look down, at least I know it’s mine.

How did I get so lost,
so far from what was once so bright?

Page after page keeps turning,
but my pen ran out of ink long ago.
Time keeps passing,
but the story unfolding isn’t me.

Maybe my story was never mine.
Maybe it belongs to someone else.
Maybe I’m just a book collecting dust
on a stranger’s shelf.

Maybe that’s why I write—
so that somewhere, buried in those pages,
there is at least one part
that is undeniably mine.

they are disgusted by my blood
yet they yearn to see me bleed
they listen to my screams
and watch as im torn by the seams
i lie awake in bed
thoughts slicing through my head
less than
more than
i am no more than
a silly naiive little girl
trapped in this body
on display to the world.
a basket case
lost in haze

sometimes,  
    i       un-know  
        the shape  
         of self—  
               dissolve before  
                       remembering.

   i sit  
     in the ache  
     of heat,

and nothing
else.

       minutes  
                   dissolve  
   into  
          maybe hours  
or never.

drip,
  drip,
    drip,
      drip.

          (i­ can’t tell  
     if it’s dripping  
           or if i’m unraveling  
                 in rhythm.)

             thoughts            blur,  
      slide,­  
              melt—  
                        into tile grout.

i breathe —
maybe i don’t.
maybe the air is too soft to hold.

    maybe i’ve been  
                      gone  
                          thi­s whole time:

     what was i  
              thinking?
  (was i thinking?)

            just heat,         and water,  
and the pressure of something  
                    heavier  
                       ­ than skin—  
    but not quite grief,

                      not quite anything.

    and still i sit.

       and still,  
                       the faucet sings,  
             and still,  
                    no one knows  
      how quiet  
                       i’ve become.

I feel like TV static.
Not quite blurry.
Definitely unclear.
There's something there,
but it's hard to make out.

I feel like TV static.
Black and white.
So very loud.
Trapped behind the glass,
I reach out and get shocked.

I feel like TV static.
Old VHS tapes.
Nothing plays.
It hurts me as I try to focus.
It hurts to try to remember.

I’d like a coffee.
Which is strange,
because I don’t like coffee.
I don’t feel like myself today.

Little morgue baby come out to play

I swear I won’t leave or go away

I came to this graveyard with all my dollies today,

I’ll play with Malorie and you can have Rei.

Little morgue angel why do weep?

Is it because you cannot sleep?

Ill sit here I won't make a peep
You just lay here and I'll watch you
I promise to be sweet

I’ll just wait here for you sorrow sweet angel.

Little graveyard girl what happened to you?

You look all ****** and bruised!

Please graveyard girl don’t scream at me

I just want to help you! Please let's leave!

Small cemetery child why does it smell;

Like rotting flesh and toxic waste?
Please let me help tie your lace

Your body looks so damaged and broke ,
It's making me choke

I don’t understand why you stay in this place!

I’m trying to help you get out,

Yet your eyes are so dull
They won't sparkle at all

And you’re sitting in the dirt, like a garden gnome would
Afraid to get up afraid if you could

Churchyard princess it’s time to go!

Why won’t you leave?

The cross is melting
Please come with me.

I can’t stay here anymore, this place will make me fade away;
These other kids they don't want to play
They think I'm ***** they think I should get out of the way

Please don’t abandon me!
Maggots feast on your dress
And I know I can't go home
Feeling so cold
No one will feel the same about me

I can’t stand the thought of being alone.

Burial ground baby you’re starting to rot!

Little morgue girl please stop!

Before I leave and fade away, stuck in this cemetery prison
Before he is risen

I haven’t even had time to play a single game with you.

My graveyard girl has forgotten about me
She left and got stranded out in sea
I knew she would have been safer right here next to me

Now all I believe

Is that she really truly needed someone to save her from her own decomposition that was seldom never right

She's faded away and now I don't know if she found the light.

They took me away, separated our faith and now she will forever never remain

Head full, racing thoughts, faster than light.
Too loud, too full, too much.
Then drifting away—far gone. No thoughts, just silence.
Nothing...
Nothing...
Nothing...

Snap back. Waves crash on—everything at once.
The cycle continues, again and again and again...
Over and over and over...
No end in sight.