Blue are my organs,
Blue is my blood,
Blue are my eyes,
Like a flood,
Of rainwater,
Rushing through the gutter of my soul.

Voices all day seem to criticize like buzzing flies,
like tyrants with their wooden Fists,
and raging impulses.
they say -
stupid **** loser -
bad, horrid

and I wonder why,
why are they saying these things?
behind closed doors and in crowded hallways,
behind the fence crouched and quiet-
I am nothing to them
I'm scared of them and I wish that they were gone...
I am just nothing

Isn't it funny,
How we use staples for paper,
To save for later,
To organize our thoughts,
In funny colors,
For each other.
Isn't it funny,
They stapled your head,
With similar staples,
Shiny and red.
You tipped your hat to the employee at the entrance,
She screamed,
And we laughed,
Our one and only defense.

Cig.
Hit my throat like a boxer,
Smoke my lungs out,
Then open my mouth like a skunky VW bus-
Pick my brain up,
Light up.
Swirl up into the sky,
Adamant you're worth it to die.

Who's in the mirror-
Staring back with wide eyes,
Green and glowing,
Magnifyed,
By the question-
Who's looking back?
You can't be real,
You're scaring me -
Like a daisy sprung full bloom in the dead of winter,
Like a tiny needle,
A splinter.
You are fear and you ate my confidence for breakfast.
I'm almost sure you won't break through and take the rest.

The day before today,
I sulked in silence.
The day before today,
I sat hollow.
The day before today,
I was deeply afraid.
The day before today,
I felt unsafe.
But today,
I am vocal and unquiet.
But today,
I feel everything with intensity.
But today,
I am brave.
But today,
I feel safe.
It's hard for me to understand,
This quick change in stance.
But I don't need to understand,
I just need to enjoy it.
I am going to
Let myself smile,
Let myself have a skip in my step,
Let myself enjoy what I have,
Let myself move on from the past,
Let myself be rash,
Let myself breathe.
Especially let myself breathe.
My breath has been caught for weeks now,
But now I can inhale deeply,
Without a worry, and I feel free.
And free is all I want to be.

Breathe a breathy, "How have you been doing," in your white coat, Dr.
And cast blank but not wholly unconcerned glances my way.
Press cold against my chest, ask me to breathe.
Coax my blood forth-
I can't watch it fill,
fill,
fill.

Pink hair and big doe eyes,
plastic clothes and purses.
Do this, do that,
argue with me.
Show me the beginnings,
of my Insanity.
Play as girl, play as boy, get married and kiss.
Fly across the world.
Hold me in your hands like an angel could, if I ever believed in those things,
if I ever would.
Take me to the prisoner,
fill me up with shame,
tarnish memories with rust,
set a doll's eyes aflame.
But no!
It was pink,
like buttercream,
it was sickly sweet.
I am nothing if not human,
nothing if not bone and meat.
Hold me like a child,
like the painting on the wall.
An angel pure and simple,
gasping at it all.
The other is smoking,
trails of gray-blue,
the disastrous danger that is me,
shining right through.

Isn't it barbaric,
the things we've done and said?
And the way we tuck them neatly,
like cattle,
to the backs of our heads?
Isn't it barbaric,
the way I treat myself?
As though I am a stranger,
or a doll left on a shelf.
Isn't it barbaric,
the way you look at me?
So sweetly,
like you'd hold me,
for all eternity.
And isn't it barbaric,
the way that death takes life?
As though it had meant nothing,
even wrought with strife.