One day you phone
all you'll hear, a dialling tone.
The next time you call
the battery is dead.
a plastic bag on my head.
Oh I'm sorry, was it something I said?
but one more thing before I'm dead.
I'm thinking . . .
as I lie . . .
as I bleed . . .
"What size screwdriver do you need?"
Telephone call, overheard
I've got a lot to do
Makes sense to me but kind of strange, make of it what you will.
If only things were as easy as 1,2,3
Arithmetic and spelling
Gym was always stunning
Recess was revered
The swings were sacred
Writing on the jungle gym
Running off with friends to play
Being enchanted by the smell of coffee and trees
Magic every second you breathe
Simply because you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be
Close your eyes
Now what do you see?
Dots of color?
Phantoms of light?
Remember when you saw dragons
Whole worlds enchanting
When you walked people said it seemed like you were dancing
Remember when you were happy?
There was no worry about what to do
What are you going to be?
You had your whole life
Figure out what to do
Well what now?
What's your plan?
It's not elementary
None of your dreams can come true
You're completely *******
I am such an open book
I am the same around humans
in church, in school, even in the hospital
I never change how I express myself
Because I am an open book, people take this an opportunity to ignore and obstruct themselves from the the deep and mysterious me.
They never want to go near the boundaries that separates and defines the real me.
Immediately they see the open book, they are satisfied
And then they mistake me as someone with a good life
little do you know about what I face in the dark
The place where trouble of peace lies.
It is so peaceful that I am so troubled
I break into tears because I know something is wrong
Is this a dream or something worse
I know something worse than a dream.....
I have to go back there and be the open book that is easy to read
The smart girl who always whines and argue
I don't want to go back to that
I just want to stay like this,
as that girl who always think and meditates about deep things.
But I have to return to my daily duty
the role I am good at being a rook.
being an open book.
An open book whose life is *******
and not in a clawing flesh, body convulsing, banging headboard kind of way
that kind of ****** I can rock the **** out of.
I am more the
twisted mess of forced misconception
enlightened by time innocence forgot
forced into a life guided by trust in the lies truth told
it's the end of life as I know it
that's the kind of ****** I am
I knew joy
it was based on trust in what was true
I knew love
it was built on that same foundation
I am ******
this mess of **** crumbling to pebbles while blinding me in the dust of my own ignorance
is anything but blissful
and all I hear are the cries of beautiful dying
not that dying is beautiful, though it can be
but of the death of beautiful things
of things I found implicitly lovely
the painful dying of all I believed was good
I am so ****** sideways
protected by others
I can no longer say for certain who I am
or who I believe myself to be
****** hard and unrecognizable
***** into truth by the kindness of others
No more questions because I am ****** that way too
no one wants to hear their old news and ***** laundry
I knew love once
now all I love, I question
reliving my choices in reasons why
trying to piece together my life had I always known
trying to define how I love by my own definitions
and not by what I knew love to be
because that love never existed
only in my ******, shattered memory
I used to love you
now it's tainted with yesterday's **** streaks
I'm still me
am I ******
Voice clip:. https://drive.google.com/file/d/14k4Lbkm4_S8z9zfBWmKe0Fyu2SlHT1x9/view?usp=drivesdk
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My fire is dimming
My heart is heavy with pain
Seeing the sad state of the world
Is putting out my flame
I had hope for positive change
The path seemed so clear
But now all I see is misguided hate
And a planet in fear
Everything is crumbling
Yet people are convinced it's not
Everyone needs humbling
But no one wants to be taught
It hurts me to see
How many people are choosing hate
There is a wrong side here
But it's becoming too late
Life as we know it is about ready to end
Just remember you had a choice
To not let evil win
Why do I **** it up?
Why don't I just not be here?
Constantly bashing myself,
Trying to grow.
Be a better person.
It isn't easy,
It's a nightmare to say the least.
I hurt those I love around me,
Because I can't trust.
Trust no one.
When I think I'm better,
That sickening feeling attacks.
Claws across my heart.
My brain seizes to think.
I freak out.
Why do I do this to myself?
I **** it up,
Because I'm so ****** up myself!