I could tell you the exact day I became complacent
I can recall the way he parted his hair and the way he touched a steering wheel and the color of his eyes
And how he cared enough about me to make sure I didn't drink and drive
But not enough to stop mixing my drinks all night
And since I can't stand up for myself, he watched as I fell apart
I am a marionette with a broken string but ****, he's a master in the art
Constantly moving me; bending my frame and pulling my wires
And keeping me onstage whenever he desires
But it's hard for me to play my part and keep up with my lines
When I come home smelling like a different cologne each night
When I am just an empty canister they keep bringing to their lips
Begging and pleading me to offer them something with purpose

But it's always the same story:
They fabricate me
I break and I bleed under their idea of self discovery
And my selfish idea of recovery
Out of every sweet name or ***** word they've ever called me
I think I've found that "Lonely" is my favorite thing to be


I haven't lit a cigarette in weeks, but tonight I'll light three;
One for him, one for me, and one for the person I swore I would never be

Listen;
My biggest flaw is that when I settled for feeling comfortable,
When I settled for what he told me I was
I never even bothered learning self-love

She saw God in the things like her morning creamer and the shape of the clouds during summer
But not much past that
Because when it came to showing love and giving people what they need
She wanted to sow a barren field without planting any seeds
She wore her faith around her neck instead of on her sleeve
If it wasn't for the Infant of Prague on her dresser and those Rosary beads
I would have no idea what it was she was trying to teach
All of them are unwilling to admit their imperfections
Because all the repercussions are held back by their holy impersonations
Their sins will never fade and their souls will never be saved and the devil won't be tamed
By her crucifix collection
I'm sure the Lord is much more forgiving than she made Him seem
She takes every communion drop and lets it fester poison in her bloodstream
God turned the water to wine that made its home in my lungs
And while He took away the rain, it still made me flood
Because knowing I made it through His downpour wasn't good enough
My hands are folded in a prayer, but they're covered in my blood
Praying that He will come to my pity party and fill me in on all I've missed
That He'll take me into His arms just so I can feel that He exists
But Satan has been writing my invitations and my Lords not on the list
So lets toast this wine that kills us and celebrate dying young
Because the devils watching me, and he's got a silver tongue
And of all these Bible stories, I don't know which part I prefer:
When Judas sold my God or kissed him when he left
Compared to silver coins, I dealt Him in for so much less

They'll hold their noses high and boast their goodness to the sky
I know that I'm not perfect, in fact, I'm who they criticize
They spit on me and cast me to the side
because those who sin differently are worthy of no pride

Her church may close its doors and throw me away
But it's okay
I don't want to worship like she does anyway

I still see God in the fall breeze and in the dying autumn trees
But not much past that
I'm writing love letter to my Saviour with a marker on red helium balloons
Each one holds an apology
I hope I hear from Him soon

I have finally found my voice
Or at least, what's left of it
The voice you muffled behind a cotton tie and washed away with gin
The voice that crawled into your ears and crept behind your skin
The one that bit the bullet and the one that pulled the pin
The voice that was my greatest strength, but wasn't strong enough to sin
"Precious, I can see your veins, you've got to get a thicker skin
I know it's cold outside, but maybe if you'd behave, I'd let you back in."

I will scream into your face until my cheeks turn black and blue
I'm sorry darling, but I don't answer to you

How dare you keep my locked out and quiet while I freeze in the December breeze
I was never yours
And I never ******* will be

I don't talk much anymore

Our nights of lying on the broken pavement and spilling ourselves into the cracks are over
But honestly, it may be better this way
Because at least now I'm not dreaming up ways of how to fill in the spaces between the concrete and the grass
And you're not scratching up your elbows on the pebbles and the glass
I know you've cut your hands a few times, but now I'm not stuck cleaning up the mess
Don't think I haven't noticed your cologne pressed into her dress
I've seen her love letters in your pillow case and her silhouette
Gliding awestruck on your curtains
I wish I was as beautiful as every word her mouth has ever spoken
I've seen more of her lipstick on her teeth than I've seen on your neck
I bet she shows more love to glass bottles than she ever could to you, except
At least the alcohol can give her some kind of bliss
The smell of wine on her breath is the venom in her kiss
You think she knows love, my dear, she's simply brushing the tip
of it

Because with me, you were more than happy to get your feet wet, but I think it would have drowned you to dive in
I knew you were never strong enough to swim

I was a language
You never bothered to learn how to read
And I was a dance without a song
And you couldn't follow me

But we are just so different, her and I
She dances on the moon and she shakes hands with the stars
Shes a bustle in the city and the mystique in passing cars
And love,
I could never compete with that kind of art

I guess it's true
That one mans trash is another mans treasure
And you are the soil of the earth that endured my violent weather
You are the ground that holds me, but the wind that severs
And I would ask for it to be different, but I could never question Mother Nature
But I will always question why I am
The way I am

I know you'd rather feel her nail marks in your back than me drawing down your chest
You'd rather hear her drunken laughter than the whispers on my breath
I hope you'll realize there more lipstick on her mirror than there is on your neck
And I can't help you then
I won't wait forever
I'll let you handle the rest

You'll go on living
I'll go on breathing
But if you ask me, dear
Those aren't quite the same thing

Have you written that letter yet?
....
Do you know the first thing about apologizing?

For singeing your eyelashes every time you relight a cigarette that's burned too far down
because you can't keep anything ablaze for too long
Letting the ashes fall off the edge and dust your floor and burn through your jeans and scorch your car doors
Putting the flame out on your neck so no one else has to leave their mark anymore
Because you're still blackened from the last person who charred you

Did you apologize yet?
For letting tequila run your mouth so you don't need to
And leaving slurred words hanging from your drunken lips
that propose no substance other than the poison you fill yourself with
Don't you know how to apologize?

You've put so much love into another body that you've forgotten to love your own
You are a garden that let weeds infest themselves in your home
You have branches in your build that tear through your fingers when they're overgrown
And their thorns rip your arms and the roots replace your bones
But have you even said you're sorry?

You're broken and you're beaten and you're bruised
You think you're nothing more than what he made you feel in that blackened  room
He may rinse the bloodstains from your bed sheets
He might wash the sins from your allure
He can hold your crying face in his palms tonight, but honey, he can't be your cure

Have you written that letter yet?

For pulling at your naked sides and thinking, "This is as good as it's going to get"
You've found more comfort in breaking down your vessel than you've found in accepting it
And you're still suffering the repercussions of the last blade you bit
Telling yourself, "I'll quit, I'll quit" but two things cannot stay together if they never fit
to begin with

have you done it yet?

Have you forced your brain to stand in front of your body, and say through muffled cries, "You never deserved what I put you through"?
Write out the apology now
Sign it in the blood you drew
Mail it with the dead branches in your framework you outgrew
I know you're broken and beaten and bruised
But you're so much more than what you feel alone in this room

Have you said you're sorry to yourself yet?

I learn so much from watching you garden
The purple petals of the lilacs paint your fingertips
and marigold pollen dusts your palms with gold
The small brushstroke of dirt on your cheekbones dances every time you speak
And I would bet a whole bouquet on the fact that if you unbuttoned your flannel,
roses and daisies would make an escapade towards the ground
Now with me,
Oh love, with me
The colors rooted in me once upon a time are something that I no longer know
The flowers growing out the tips of my fingers withered down to the soles of my shoes
No matter how often I watered them, they never seemed to bloom

That's the irony in falling in love with the gardener
That's the irony in falling in love with something so alive
The rawness in how something so torn into could love something so well put together
And your hands are so soft, even the flowers cannot compare
I hear them whispering in the sway of the breeze,
and they are envious of your touch
Because the lilies cannot compare to your delicacy
While my hands are a cracked desert, yours are the sunshine that plays parallel to your smile

It's the first day of spring
And I'm watching from under an oak tree as you plant seeds
And I'm writing this poem for you to read eventually
Whether I'll ever show it to you, I guess we'll know in a few years
But please, don't let these words be wasted

I thought you didn't hear me when I asked you, "How is it that you love life so much?"
But maybe you answered in your smile
Maybe you answered through the way you made me feel
That day you touched my barren, deserted hands

You were a vibrant tone of yellow
And I was a dying shade of blue,
When you touched me, our colors mixed to a brilliant green
It was then I realized you answered in natures hue
I realized this is how it feels to be alive
Maybe you can help me get used to feeling this way