I've always been someone who feels intensely.
Someone who notices the things that no one around them
seem to pay attention to.
Someone that sets focuses on the small things and
romanticize them to no end.
Someone who plays them in a loop on their head and
overthinks every detail.
Someone who creates expectations for everything around them
even though they know it'll hurt them in the end.
Someone with a never-ending inner battle
in between their heart and their head.
Someone with an everlasting lost look on their face who
you think has nothing going on up there.
But there's something.
A memory of every half-smile, every laugh,
every tear, and every frown ever felt,
emotions ready to creep back up into the surface again
at any given time. No warnings attached.
- whirlwind.

Just like in my life,
struggling so hard and rough
Disheveled woman,
uncombed decisions were made
Frightful head filled messy hair

Your life's a mess
My life's a mess
Your love's a mess
My love's...
        I don't know
Maybe I don't have it
Do I not
Do I feel it
Do I know how it feels
        No
        I don't
        I don't know how it feels
Do you
You do
But you don't feel it now

Yours is a mess
But not for me
Mine's... unsure

I live,
under the quilted
periwinkle skies,
of my room.
This is where
my clothes
amass themselves
and spread their empty
arm and legs,
like a stubborn,
overgrown child.

everything is so messy,
i feel this aching pain when i'm at home, and when i'm out with friends i feel lonely.
my mind feels like my bedroom, a right off.
sure, you can tell me to clean it and i can try,
i can want to clean it but no matter how many times i shove that ***** laundry back into a pile; and no matter how many times i throw everything out,
it all comes back out sooner than later. i crave a tidy life, i tidy mind and a tidy room, but it's so hard to keep up with.
i would rather let sleep cradle me in it's gentle arms for the rest of the day, and do it tomorrow.
though, tomorrow never comes and thus my room and my mind stay the same.
a vicious, but comforting cycle.
i like it when things stay the same, i like it more than i should.
all i've had my whole life is change,
now i find comfort in static, i find comfort in knowing what's going to happen tomorrow.
i find comfort having routine even though the cycle i'm in is destructive and makes me hate myself, it's hurtfully comforting.
that doesn't make any sense but here's something that might,
feeling something is better than feeling nothing
negative or positive
maybe that's why i stick around you.
you don't help me clean, if anything you make even more of a mess, but that keeps the routine going.
i'll clean tomorrow. then turns into tomorrow. then tomorrow. then tomorrow. then...