Am I incurable? It seems so. I’m an incorrigible invalid Of the heart.
Love starts like this: We like the same books, We like the same music, We seem like a match made in high… It crumbles like this:
Shambles: They hold my life together. I’m shredded into slices, Trying to hold it whole, And I wonder if anyone
I often cajole myself Into crying, But I refrain. I know I’ll never stop.
Love is the sickness. Love is the cure.
In seventh grade, I made you a po… But I tore it up into pieces Because it wasn’t good enough. In eighth grade, I made you a poe… But I left it under my bed
It’s over. It’s okay. The parting is such sorrow And relief. It hurts like a crushing force,
I came back from a mortal hell, But on my way home, I saw no white god, And I saw no golden spirit, And I saw no true son.
I find it funny That I raised myself From the cradle To the grave. I never got a chance to be a baby.
In my house, You don’t ask questions. The whispers from mom and dad Signal you to a hiding place. In my house,
Sometimes, I wish I was a tree: Tall, wide, and majestic as can be… One with branches that sway slowly… Watching above, everything I woul… Sometimes, I wish I was an oak.
Splattered you All over my body And flecks of skin Inside every crevice. I can’t get rid of you
Woah. The bright sky Makes me want to live, And the grass Smells too good to miss.
I was born of the Virgin Mary, Given life to rid earth of evil. Blood on my hands, Dirt on my hands, I’m akin with Christ Himself.
You’re young. You’ll feel better. You’ll get better Eventually. So much time to feel better.