Stop it, I can’t breathe,
you’ve tightened the buckles
of my straightjacket past
the point of drawing shallow gasps,
of a life you took one fleeting glance at
and automatically postmarked
“return to sender”.
(a return to sanity, if you ask me.)

-

And just so you know,
said recipient dosent want
me either, I’m just
another lost cause,
around only for the
few precious minutes of
drug-induced euphoria,
allowed to me as a
pensioner of youth.

-

Youth, ah, yes, the epitome
of innocence. I guess
I wasn’t worthy of such a period
of allowed recklessness,
or such a lenient title.
although “wench, bitch, and whore”
are all three permenately tacked upon
your glorious repituar of heated insults.
(Heated yes, but not hot enough to scar.
you’ll never be that good again.)

-

Insults aimed at me,
your only daughter, the one
you love to call “crazy”,
one you love to hate.
And I suppose you’d try to convince me
that my faults outweigh my strengths?
(Such a pitiful argument, considering your
evidence is about as solid as jell-o.)

-

Im sorry, but I don’t buy
bullshit, no matter how
prettily it may be packaged.
So you may as well pack it in,
because as far as you and me are concerned,
our relationship has surpassed
its merciful deadline.
(It’s time to feel that sweet liquid death
wither our veins, and weigh heavy on our lids,.
you cant, after all, teach an old dog new tricks.)

-

Deadlines like the one on my life,
always egging me on,
whispering to me to be something
greater than a bloody,
dependant mess, as if that
is actually a plateau within
the realm of my too weak,
watered down grasp.
(I’ve slipped, and you’ve sat watching me fall.
You watched me shatter, and never even bat an eye.
And after that, im supposed to care? )

-

No, I don’t even know the girl,
I claim to be, but im sure she’s
more fake than plastic, and oh so
tired of smiling,
Just let me frown a while,
my face hurts from putting on
such a valiant show.
(A pretty, blatant lie.)

-

Lets look beyond the
smoke-and mirrors shall we?
To the burning core of the monster.
We’ll watch it go down like so.
The opening of skin,
not enough to bleed her out completely,
just enough to alleviate the pressure.
(The Pressure of heartbreak.)

-

We’ll let the tears fall this time,
a reminder of my defiance,
God, how you hate weakness,
my sweet, sweet, failure.
(A soothing revenge)

-

And ill put on a brave face,
as I sink ever lower,
It must be time for my meds,
im falling so fast, so hard.
I am, after all, crazy right?
I must need something.
(or is that just your defense,
a well thought out charade, to avoid
admitting you were wrong? )

-

You’ll chain me up,
(Shackle me down),
and never let me go,
for fear that my freedom,
may spread corruption
across land’s far and wide.
(Yet, they still let you run wild and uninhibited? )

-

So let me close my eyes and smile,
a slow-self satisfied sort,
for you can’t reach what you long to fix,
she’s engraved upon my tattered
heartstrings.
Tucked too far away for your
Arsenic filled needles to penetrate.
(Thank God, your not qualified
to perform open heart surgery in this hole,
you’d carve at me‘til I was
nothing more than a carcass.
“Just trying to perfect me, make me better”
no doubt)

-

But ill humor you, for
how-dare I not?
And We’ll continue playing this game,
of cat-and-mouse if you
really think it’s for the best.
(Which im sure its not)
After all I have one promise
of deliverance, wether it be
manufactured happiness
or a rare glimpse at something real.
My over tolerant Prozac Dawn.

(Three cheers for this chemically altered,
sugary sweet haze.)