I remember watching documentaries with you, our eyes so wide
It fells like for ever since we sat side by side.
It was about eating disorders, gluttony, not mine
& we found something shared after all of this time.
Cause we both are such bitches, guess we get it from her.
I tried to protect you, I never wanted you to hurt.
But I’m just so cold, so cruel and unkind.
I’m hard to love, even with blood in the bind.
So I’ll write you this poem, though you’ll never really know.
I really do love you, sister, its just so hard to show.
I’m in a dark place now, I’m here without light.
But if I drink from this bottle I’ll shine through the night.
I’ll glitter and sparkle, I’ll be lovely, rest assured.
For who needs lights, when your eyes are so blurred?
Don’t believe it though. It’s all a big lie.
A play done by actors who you’d never deny.
You’ll feel so empty after, for its over by three.
And they go to bed with Gilda, but wake up with me.
I Have To Know.
There’s something I need to ask you,
But I’m afraid of how you’ll respond.
Its been awhile since we last spoke,
It makes me wonder what I did wrong.
Because its always my fault when things are soured.
Always my fault when things turn bad.
My mind is but a devil, my soul it has devoured.
It so hard for me to find happiness, when my heart is filled with sad.
That’s what you make me feel, happy, when your eyes meet mine.
I feel such joy that I can ignore the hate that controls me all the time.
But I’ve ruined what we had, by letting you know the real me.
You’ve seen the insanity I hold, you’ve known the monster I am.
How could you ever love me, when you know that I am damned?
But still I’ll ask, as now our time seems almost up,
If I ever asked for a night, for a kiss at the door and a smile across a table,
Would you have said yes? Or would you have denied and left me tearful?
I Can’t.
I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not.
I can’t be perfect. I can’t be normal.
I can’t act like an angel. I’m a fuck up.
I make stupud decisions, I do stupid things.
I can’t have you around me, because I’m so afraid of what you’ll find.
There’s bruises on my body, from fights at the bar.
The scars in my skin that made me think I was alive, even if it was only for a moment.
The cuts in my flesh and the razors in my drawer help show me that I can still feel.
The flask in my purse that, to me, makes the world alright, but to you makes me all wrong.
There’s pills in my wallet, and sometimes I don’t eat. It makes me feel beauty when surrounded by ugly.
I’m afraid you’ll see how unfeeling I am. How cold I can be. Unresponsive and dead as I remember to inhale.
What would you think if you knew that I layed here for hours, watching the fan turn in a deadened haze?
I care what you think, as my eyes begin to blur and these pretty pills kick. They make me numb, and I forget the way I am.
…But I don’t care enough to stop these things.
I don’t care enough to stop my own pain. Or to pick up a fork. Or to put down the bottle and throw away this Rx bag.
I don’t care because eventually, you’ll leave. You’ll find someone else.
But I’ll always have my mistakes.
I’ll always be a freak. A fuck up. I’ll always be Me.
