I don't want to love you anymore.
but how am I supposed to make myself fall out of love
with the one who taught me
what love really feels like?

It's overflowing;
I'm full;
It's wearying me;
I can't...
I can't breathe....

Inside, I am nothing more than a child
with a branch for a toy sword,
Brandishing it up against
The monsters and villains of my own mind

Inside, I am nothing more than a child,
Crying out for forgiveness for my
Multitude of sins
Against my ancestors of days past

Inside, I am nothing more than a child
That feels as though she isn’t
Good enough for those she loves;
She isn’t good enough to be here

Inside, I am nothing more than a child
That feels as though
She is nothing more than an inconvenience,
That she is nothing more than a burden

If you care just tell me
I'm tired
and confused

you just awaken every day
to stumble through unknown places
and trip through the gaps in spaces;
you are not safe, you’re lost, you relay
stolen lines all the same. you say:
“i just need to get through this week”
as if, after sunday, unique
places will appear, that you will
understand, at last. a standstill
comes, but now your world is oblique.