A/N: Here goes...nothing. Because I'm a college kid, and that's what I have :D.
Honestly, go easy on me here, my thoughts were racing a bit when I wrote this. R&R me, I'll R&R you. As always...keep writing.

Displacement

It's been a while since I've been able
to put all my thoughts out on the table.
It's harder than it used to be,
lately nothing's mattered much to me.
I'm keeping my head above the surface,
I'm holding my heart above the surface,
not letting myself think too much,
not letting my heart feel too much.
Staying too numb for my own good,
forgetting about my place in the world.
Wondering what I'm going home to,
scared of what I might succumb to.
It actually takes a lot of care
to become as apathetic as me.
And now the angel has stained her wings,
blood-red, there's no denying anything.
The bottle in one hand and the pills in the other,
nobody here who'd try and stop her.
She can become all of her potential,
or she can reveal how little she has.
Either way, if she makes a mistake,
it's only going to show on her hands.
And it's a lot to put onto my shoulders,
making me take care
of something I never even wanted.
Choking on responsibility,
the amount of anxiety that flows through me,
afraid to admit how far-away I feel,
and even more afraid to get any closer.
It's a whirlwind of emotions that I'm convinced is down to one,
the feeling of letting go when I wanted to hold on.
I never admitted how apathetic I wasn't
until it was too late to do something about it.
It's not that I'm doing badly in my current situation-
but I'm aware of how quickly these things change formation.
The bottle's in my hands, the thoughts are in my head,
there's nothing I can do or say to take them back.
I wish I had a confidante-someone to listen, someone to watch,
because it's hard to take care of myself by myself.
I've never been good at it, no matter how many times I attempted it,
and until now I've constantly refused to admit it.
I'm floating in a sea of new-found company,
people who don't know the warning signs
when I'm drowning miserably.
And since I'm alone, I can make up my own.
I don't need to let my true colors be shown.
No, it's up to me, I get to pick and choose.
Any game I play, I decide to win or lose.
It upsets me, thrills me, scares me all at once.
Mostly, I wonder, what exactly I'll become...