I'm fine and then I'm a basket case
I am driving down a secluded road and then I am in the middle of a city, there are too many noises and people, I need to get out
I am crashing. I am toppling over a cliff going
Down
Down
Down
Down
Crash.
Windows broken, airbags deployed, engine on fire.
I am the wreckage.
Don't slow down the world to look at me because I don't want to be seen. I am too busy feeling the pain, feeling loss, feeling broken. My gears don't work right. You can't put me in drive anymore, my radio won't play sweet feel good top 40 songs.
Even my gas pedals won't budge, I am stuck and I am feeling everything
All at once.

Sitting out here in the dark, it's 4:47 am
I wonder where you are
My heart is beating
With you in it
You're going through my veins, pumping through my blood, you're filling me up and I don't know if I can handle these emotions
I feel like I'm breaking
I need to be kept together
Please hold me
Let me breathe you in
I'm clingy.
Heart pounding out of my chest
It's on the ground
Along with my cigarette ashes
And that's all I am now
An ember that's burning ever so slightly
Just stomp me out.

I will walk a thousand miles in a warm and lit wood,
Or lie in the dark all day, my chest pounding, sometimes my palms sweating.
I can love you with my entire being, with an open heart and outstretched arms,
I can nearly hate you also. The thought of betrayal, burning flames lapping up inside of me.
I will exhaust myself with tears about things that haven't happened yet. Far off thoughts, ones that are merely dust in the wind.
Then I will tell others not to worry about a thing, while my own mind consumes me and all that I do.
It's a challenge to practice what I preach.
I am trapped underwater, I am flying through the clouds
I am singing out loudly into the bright sunshine, I am silent in the lonesome night.
I am free as a wild stallion running across the grasslands, I am a bird with clipped wings.
I don't know the color grey
I never have.

I've been telling my therapist about you.
I've been trying to sleep, yet all that fills my head is you and her.
You talking to her. A filthy wreck. I feel sorry for her.
Me working into the early hours of the morning, watching a sunrise on the long drive back, me wanting to get home to you.
You getting involved with her while I'm gone. You inviting her to the bar. Let me make you a drink.
You could be wiping her lipstick away before I return, erasing her taste from your lips. I bet it's disgusting.
I thought you hated dreadlocks.
I've been going over and over in my head if this is what I'm worth. I know I'm not a looker.. My hair is messy, my clothes are ripped, I'm all marked up from the past.
I thought my personality shone through that though.
Sometimes though, I guess that's not enough.
What hole do you need to fill? Please tell me.
Please, oh please tell me why you knocked me down. Why am I not enough.
I've been crying a little each day, then pulling it back together.
I've been trying to still be that stone wall I always am throughout this horrible pain.
I smell like cigarettes, you smell like lies.
I've been telling my therapist about you.

Sitting here in Tompkins, it all comes rushing back
The empty stares and bloodshot eyes,
Shooting dope and smoking crack.
Tiger is on the corner shouting "it's the first day of spring!"
Everything is gone to me, all my belongings in the pawn shop, sold.
It doesn't matter what season it is, my heart is always cold.
They kick me out of the basement and now I have no place to sleep.
So I rob a man, cop a few backs.
Get high in a public bathroom and weep.
My eyes are brimming with tears as I walk down down the street.
They're silently screaming help me to every person I meet.
But I cannot let the world see me cry, they cannot know my tears. The world is a big bad place and it cannot know my fears.
I'm waking up next to the East River, I'm only 19 years old.
How did I get this way, what happened? I was always a good girl and did as I was told.
Mommy, where are you?
Mommy can I please come back?
My father has left me and you will too
I'm sorry.. I'm sorry. But this is what enfolds when your daughter does smack.
I'm in Denver now still miserable, I am so far away.
I swallow my pride and lie when they ask if I'm okay.
I'm staying in a crack house, my arm is infected, I'm scared.
"Help!" I tell them. "Please take me somewhere safe."
They roll their eyes and laugh, they say there's no such place.
I overdose, my heartbeat stops for two minutes. Then I snap back to life.
"******* it!" I yell "why didn't I just *******  die?"
I try again and fail twice.
My time is running out, I can't take this **** anymore. But when it comes to that needle.. For her I'm a ******* *****.
My arm though.. My ******* arm. It's getting worse. Five times is size, filled with ****, it's so ******* sore.
I take a breath. It's early morning. I grab my things and run for the street. I'm sorry to my friends.. But my promises I can't keep.

A thousand more miles away now, my arm is still throbbing, lying in a hospital bed. Hooked up to a million machines, my doctor saying he's surprised I'm not dead.

This is what I think about, just so you're aware.
This is what I think about, alone in Tompkins Square.