She’s drilled holes into her temples
And tried to pull out memories with her bitten fingernails
She’s recited everything she’s said and heard
Into a ***** toilet bowl every night on the hour
She’s weeped a million times over
From her eyes and from her wrists,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

And now the scars left over can’t scab
The phrases are written in morse code on her body
Her will has been evicted along with her soul
And she’s become zombified, a living piece of parchment
From which she’s tried so hard to erase the words
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

The sound of a voice tears hers apart every day
And the words they form she’s come to despise
So she’s taken up book burning,
Making every letter ever aimed at her head run for their lives
She’s even made her own name take off, and now she’s
Desperately pleading for eternal silence to be her savior
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

So when you see her in the hallways, she pretends she’s invisible,
Pretending that her presence won’t have any meaning to it,
Pretending that she’s not important enough to be noticed,
Because her motto is fake it
Until you make it.
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

And the ones that have told her she’s not good enough,
That she’s better off dead and no one will care,
They laugh at her and then they forget.
They come back around the next day to laugh at the same joke.
She looks in the mirror and tries to laugh like them,
Laughing so much, she begins to cry,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

So when you hug her and tell her it’s alright,
That you love her and tell her she’s worth more than life itself,
Sing it to her, so she won’t forget.

Void and empty are holes
People fall into holes
Fall into love

Then the holes are no longer
but a memory and a poem
that when you read makes you smile

Baby I don't know
Where on this road I'm going
My soul is feeling so low
Can you see, is it showing?

I'm packing my bag but it won't zip
I just need you to tell me not to go
Feel you fingers on my hip
Tell me life without me would be woe

I want you to need me like I need you
I want to shake your soul
There's nothing left for me to do
I've dug the deepest possible hole

So if one day you miss me
Know that that's all I wanted you to do
And if you get down on one knee
I hope to God you think it through
Adieu my almost lover
Adieu

grounded, am I,
in these worn out shoes
soulless and hole strewn
just like my heart too
is broken in like these old shoes
wanderlust on my tongue
and insanity on my lips
I cry in my sleep like an addict on a bad trip
but my mind is clear as I gaze out my window
whisper sad songs as I draw in the fog with my fingers
I am gone, so gone,
I wish I could stay here,
but these soulless and hole strewn shoes
have plans to get away, dear

They ask me,
"What are these holes in your heart, darling?"
I tell them,
"I am a writer and my pen always needs a refill."