I can't sell this house
That you forcefully entered.
I have to live in it...
The scene of your crime.
I can't drive away
When memories are too vivid.
Because it is my body,
My home, that you violated.

I'm reminded of you
When I look down and see
A body that does not
Seem to belong to me.
When I sit down, I remember  
How the warm, sticky blood
Felt between my legs
As you scraped in and out.

Car keys in my ignition...
The same ones you took from me.
My purple dress...
The one I begged to keep on.
A friend's apartment I can't go to
Because it's in the same complex.
The skirt I never wore again
Because you said I was "asking for it."

Dream catchers, night lights,
Melatonin, medication...
None of them have stopped
The nightmares of you.
How can I explain to a lover
Why I cry in my sleep?
Or that it's not his fault
I cringe from his touch?

No, this crime...
I can never escape from.
And no soap or scrub
Can wash away the film
You left on my body.
A film so thin, it's invisible
To everyone.
But me.

Where were you when life dripped off my chin?
Intaking's a sin. You're a sinner.
I can't eat dinner, I'm not hungry.
It means nothing. THIS MEANS NOTHING.
It's the mirror, and it's controlling.
Reloading another bullet for a throat that's decomposing, and
as acid clambered up my mouth, I had quick thoughts of death.
A moment where flesh and bone may rot away the failed flavor,
yet a knotted mass of pain I'll never lose stings today,
gauging my limbs until nothing remains of me.
This pain is an everlasting parasite, and I cannot be saved,
for this nasty sickness is called a brain to me.

I'm 19 and I never thought I'd make it past my expiration date. I figured something would've thrown me out by now.

My head's in disbelief that we're still blowing out the candles and waking to reality, I truly believe that my existence is scorning me.

What do you say, when they ask
"where do you see yourself at 20?" When you never thought you'd grow that old? How do you take a hold of living?
Living, living, living..

I really wish I knew what do with my life,
Now that it's not a short coming
All my friends, see they had plans,
And so did I, but mine weren't of growing old or running wild. I never thought I'd be anything more than a child.
I don't know what kept me here..

So here I am, hope in hand as I try to understand what to do. What to do with the years I was given- when you never thought you'd grow that old to take a hold of living, to take a hold of living
When you never
Thought
You'd
Grow
That old.
To take
A hold of
L I v I n g.


And Now im finally living,

finally living..


Finally

living