I’m sick and tired of hanging out my window,
I’ve learned from past experience rain can’t make flowers grow,
And friends don’t stick around.
They go which way the wind goes,
You’re never safe and sound until all your doors are closed.

Happy Thanksgiving, oh dysfunctional family of mine.

Happy Thanksgiving

So give me all your poison and give me all your pills and give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill.

It’s okay to sit inside of an empty house and cry, because the walls hold in what you can’t.

3

And this is what I really am. A pale, makeupless.. mess.

3

And if loving him is,
Is a heartache for me.
And if holding him means
I have to bleed.
Then I am the martyr,
Love is to blame.
He is the healing,
And I am the pain.

Open hearted as a heart can be,
Cause we all a ruin like broken leaves.
I give you me in oceans of tears up to my knees,
Stitched together like pants and sleeves.