your bipolarity drives me away.
how you can adore me, affect me one minute,
and shun me with silence the next:
do you only hear me when i'm begging?

i'd give anything to be calm,
and comfortable.

you're rounding out corners,
you're seeking something straight and narrow.
you're creeping around the floors of the house
seeking something rotten.
what is there in the silence that cannot be said?

the walls are made of cardboard,
in this house.
the skylights aren't there on purpose,
the view of the night sky isn't meant to be.
the walls melt down to the ground when it rains,
in this house.

you don't owe me a thing:
i will be lucky to escape with my heart in my chest
and my soul in my mouth.
you owe me the opportunity to take you for granted.
you owe me many, many quiet moments spent in love,
a thousand and one nights of sleeping alone,
twenty-two years of broken promises.

the walls of the heart are thin and easily punctured.
if you were a barb, a thorn, a spike,
how easily you could destroy such a pink thumping thing.

when i am losing my way,
when i am losing my head,
you are the path and the story.
you are my narrative, my development and my rugged track
worn down by my circling back around again and again.
when i am losing my way,
you are the prick of a needle in a wall made of cardboard,
the mark it makes,
a tiny irrevocable wound.

writing the same thoughts every day does nothing.
you actively do nothing,
make the choice to leave me with nothing.

your reason is your ego:
i am wandering, i am wavering,
i am young, sweet, and capable of deception.

late night tv does nothing.
other peoples' voices can't drown mine,
and i am shouting for attention.

your silence is not redemptive!
i am climbing walls to find a higher truth,
and you leave me lacking.


"your success as an underachiever, an unrealistic dreamer, was draining on society; doesn't it seem you're out of place? is it your dream that has you in doubt, does it hurt too much to even think about, how your ideals have been misplaced along the way? is it your dream that has you in doubt, does it hurt too much to even think about, how all that's right has been replaced along the way?" --the profits