My legs were shaking
so uncontrollably
as I inched my way towards the
cold tile floor
on a Friday afternoon

It climbed up my spine
Into my hands
as the water in the cup
Shook and spilled
onto the floor

I look at the new mess before me
then up at the one in the mirror
staring right back
as I realize
as of now
only one can be helped

Because the shakes came
and left just as quick
but the thoughts that clawed
my skull
took root within my mind for weeks
on end

And after they grew comfortable
they invited the guest of honor to vacation
within the gaping hole of emptiness
that existed within my chest

Except when he was there it didn't
feel so empty
only heavy
and even though i asked them to leave
they had grown too comfortable
with my discomfort
to give it all up

Nothing is stable
Because I'm use to instability
This ground is not fertile
So get use to infertility
I might be able
And not have the ability
Everyone one needs saving
But there isn't a savior
Through many of labors
We try to find loyalty
Which is funny because
We're all used to enemies
Nothing is labelled
Its all under the table
Nothing has flavor
But it still taste good to me
You want to love like you're dying
With no time to wait
And all hearts at stake
Die like you're living
Forget all the hearts you break
When I'm tired I seem to be the most calm
When I'm stressed I feel relaxed when I'm anxious I keep on waiting
For my paranoia to detach
I tend to want to get high
But I embrace the night
Like an introvert I'm in my mind like I wear its design and material things are measured in time and all the time I seem to whine
Just to be extra ordinary
Lord I'm wary
I wonder what's going to happen next weekend

I’m completely unstable.
            I’m mentally unkind.
            I’m physically unsafe.
            I’m a demon in disguise.
            Not who you believe.
            Not you, or me.
            Unsafe.
            Unkind.
            Unstable.
            Who am I but a sociopath.
            What am I but a demon.
            But a girl hidden in lies.
            But a girl who toys.
            But who am I but a lie.
            Who am I but a sociopathic girl.
            What but a dead body hiding a monster.
            What better word than unstable?
            What better to describe than unkind?

Staring at the cold weather through the window,
think of all the ways I can win dough.

Every idea.. BINGO! But my two cents don't pay the rent though.

And I cant eat my thoughts for food so I'm stuck in limbo.
That's a food for thought that ****** up my credentials,
Because they kept offering me a penny for my thoughts until I said I was bruised and scarred so they gave me time off for being "mentally unstable".
If I tell them I'm not, I have to go back to my job of making my way to the hell hole but what choice do I got when It's either that or keep playing the role of scapegoat.

It's driving me insane and the pills I pop wont make the pain go. Meanwhile my stairway to heaven is literally blocked by my guardian angel.

Free. Not free
Our speech taken
Lies upon lies
Deviants, narcissists , mentally unstable

Make a decision or don't
Be fair
Don't rob the poor
This working class hero, tattered forlorn

With ya big flashy car
And ya stupid big house

Greedy, unflumoxed with no sense of guilt

Robber.  Thief.  Politician !

It’s okay, I only cry sometimes, I lie,
Because being honest and admitting to
Days filled with endless tears is
Unattractive
And nobody likes a weak girl with wet eyes
Tears mean
Instability
In the eyes of stones who masquerade
As human beings.

It’s okay, I only cry sometimes, I say,
Like when reading a book and it hits me
Harder than expected
Like on drunken nights when I’m lonely and
My past haunts me
Like the times when I’m really, truly, kind of
Very happy
Or when I’m numb to everything
And sometimes when nothing at all
has happened but I’m still moody

But it’s okay,
because honestly,
*I only cry sometimes.

With every word is a silent fight.
The fight to **** the demons whom come to play at the break of night.
Dawn covers my screams.
A cut for every crushed dream.
Every meaningless cry.
Nobody sees the pain hidden within my eyes.
Nobody can see my wrists bleeding.
Nobody hears my thoughts screaming.
They see the person I pretend to be.
The perfect girl whom fits in socioty.
Not the one with crippling depression and anxiety.
They are all lies you see.
Absolutely everything.
I tell you I'm okay.
Acually I'm just waiting to say...
Waiting I breath...
One last breath...
Whisper goodbye...
Finally close my eyes....
Finally **** the voices.
Finally free.

I just returned to the place I call home and I'm already planning on leaving again.

And I know you're thinking you were only away a few days, a few more can't hurt but you see this is just what I do, this is that vice I cannot seem to kick no matter how many times I promise I'm quitting. Even the alcohol and cigarettes that stole the best years of my life don't compete with this leave-leave-leaving.

For some one who needs stability, who writes poetry in repetitions of three because her heart stutters compulsions, like embolism, like maybe it could **** me, like I don't wanna die, I have a funny obsession with making my life unstable. Always turning my world on its head, finding solace in strange places surrounded by different faces.
It never makes me happy, whether moving or stagnant I feel like I'm missing missing missing a part of me and I have no idea how to find it. It is the ghost that haunts me.

So I'm grabbing the bag I never bother to unpack, add to it my melancholy and the frightening 'what if' of my failing health, trying to not feel like a liar for promising I'd go see someone about it, trying not to feel failure in the fact that I don't know if I can stay long enough to see someone about it, trying not to feel like this is my way of kissing this life goodbye. Hopefully this isn't how I leave you.