You know, I'm not defined by this
I never was this, I never was his
I spent a little time
In a skin that wasn't mine
I played a small pantomime
Where I stumbled over every line
And you probably though this was me
But it isn't, and it's not who I want to be
The person I want to be is still banging on
The walls of my insides, still hanging on
For a day that she will come outside, even if
There is no one around to see it, maybe it's
Better that way, for the first time, I will strip off
And Remember what is wearing no glitz
That I thought was me, but my own skin -
I'm tired of the shape I see, I'm ashamed of how I appeared in
Your eyes; yet, there are people who believe still,
Who never stopped seeing the real girl.

It's been a while,
Since i drunk so much.
These days, my drug is just the smile,
I lay down, it's my new crutch.

I miss the days, that were softly red,
I miss the feeling of wanting dead.
My life is sore, but not so much more.

I wish, I wish I knew where to go.
Just sit in my calm place now, meadow.
It was all a lie, I told myself.
Instead, I put it on a higher shelf.

Do these feelings last?
Or do they simply pass.
I'm asking, not enquiring
something something requiring,
some strength and love,
is not enough, especially from above.

Was I always destined,
To be your friend or be your foe?
I do wish to answer, however, although....
I dont know, what to think no more.
I feel empty not just sore.


I feel like I've lost myself,
I ask for help I asked for help I ask for...
No more than the ordinary person.
Why can't I write how I used to?
Why can't I write only in pain.
Why can't I write when I'm feeling sane.
What is this curse?
What is this verse,
could it be any worse?
I feel so numb,
Down to my thumb.
I feel like I've lost my brain.

I feel so alone,
Yet I feel not alone.
I feel like I've lost again.

When she awoke, she was on a couch in the author's home
He was in the other room waiting for her to awake
"Are you okay, sweetheart? You took a hard fall"
She responded "you're not a cartoon after all"
"That's half true, in order for you to get it, you'll have to see it for yourself"
He took her by the hand and grabbed the comic off the shelf
It was encased in a glass box...on the covered it said issue #1
He looked back at her and whispered "the fun's only begun"
He whisked his hand across a page and within the blink of an eye
They were submerged into the Crazy Cool world
She whispers, "Where Am I?"

I think we failed, sailed to no avail.
too far from where our tale began.
Well what was the plan again?  make it to a greener land
and walk hand in hand with the internet stuffed in a mannequin.  
and send them panicking, span across the whole globe challenging
what it truly means to be pointlessly rambling.

I’m no feart’ of dying here doing so.
"Haven’t you noticed no ones looking for us”