Lipsticks, painted red
      A smile on my face,
              Not seen before,
     Take a big swig from a bottle,
Drink more and more
      Until I end up on the floor
     Finally the *memories are gone
When my sanity walks out the door

        I'm now on the ceiling,
   Though quite possibly dreaming,
My thoughts are far from clearing
            In muddled moments
    I find comfort and forget
             No longer chained
      Or to my own head in debt

Swishing the thoughts around my mind
    Like a good year of
         fine white wine
   Spitting out the rotten ones
Swallowing down a few,
        just for fun
     Intoxication at its finest,
Brazen, daring, brave and bold
           Leaving the past behind us
     Out in the bitter cold

          Frozen behind,
   No longer catching up to me
     I can stumble forward
            In my plastered euphoria
     A smile on my face
I can pick up my pace
         Audacious now, I feel
Doesn't matter how much of this is real

Reality is just in my mind
           Not easily defined
    By dreams, nightmares or ghosts
             From the past
       Reality is in this bottle,
                This pipe, or this needle
     Down to the very last
Drops of fantasy and candy
                   But ****,
           *It tastes so sweet

I'm a dork,            a freak,
                pathetic,             quiet,
    loud,              obnoxious,
               loyal,                 concerned,
self absorbed,      afraid,
              disconnected,     preoccupied,
      and more.

  My bookshelf spills
              onto the floor,
                           into my closet,
      covers my mattress.

                           I spend more time
            RPing in forums
      than I do
                      talking to people
                I actually know.

                                                       I have this
                                                      weird accent
                                                                ­             that doesn't belong
                                                      where I live,
                                                                ­             it gets wicked strong
                                                       when I'm upset                 or tired.

My entire wardrobe is
a walking reference
                                             to novels,
                                  sci-fi,
or something else.

I wear hats... a lot.

I bring books,
handhelds,
and notebooks
         to events
where
I'm supposed to
                         socialize.

                                                     ­          I
                                                           dance
                                                        randomly­
                                                             and
                                                           people
                                                            star­e.

I snort
       when I laugh,
               really loudly.

I                     d             a             y             d             r             e             a            m.

She has found a friend
Maybe someone who cares
Don't you let her drown in loneliness
Don't you DARE.....