Kenny says that I always look like a princess, but I never even try to look good because what you see is what you get. I shouldn’t have to impress anyone. He thinks so highly of me, sigh. It’s cute though.
Choking myself with an imaginary noose
I wonder what it will take to let it loose
I am embarrassed by my scars and imperfections
pink marks that reveal my vulnerability
I swear my throat closes itself when I am trying to sleep
and when I wake it’s as if I was wading in water neck deep
My ribs stick through my skin and my weary eyes tremble midday
I need to learn to cope without a crutch, I must pick myself up.
At first to you I was a beautiful flower until you ripped my roots out of the ground and I withered. How wrong was I to blossom for you? Now my petals are falling apart in the dead of winter. I have become a weed in your garden, no more purpose or direction just a weary invasion, an ugly mark left on your territory. I am forgotten and unnoticed because no longer am I a colorful burst of life, I am dead.
I’m choosing to be straight edge because it’s a healthier life for myself. I am too emotionally unstable to lose control. I will be more cautious in letting people in and be sure that we both care a hell of a lot about each other so no one gets hurt. I don’t need alcohol and smokes and the greens to feel good or to fit in. All I will do is be myself. Whatever everyone else chooses to do is up to them, but this is a choice that I have made.