That it won't come around That we've lost what we'd found Neither of us freer#.

'And the story's all over you
In the morning I'll call you
Can't you find a clue when your eyes are all painted Sinatra blue.'


I think perhaps I am calming down.
I'm seeing signs, I prefer light pink to black and peacock blue.
I don't understand why it manifests in colours.
But in 'calming down', why am I choosing bland, 'pretty colours'?
Femininity should not be motherhood, nor virginial or what men find attractive.
It should be anything, anything at all. But why do I see it as pink, or roses, motherhood.
The word, and even my mind is rotten to the core.
Maybe I should not say I have calmed down then.



'If Hans christian anderson could've had this way with me, then none of this shit would've ever gone down, In my cell i'm tattooing myself with mermaids and swallows, and though I do swallow, My mama thinks i've grown, but i'm really just little. And someday I will remember'

We are all prisoners, piles of our thoughts running miles in the dark just trying to get home.

I wish I could quit you, i'm so incredibly finished my legs ache.
They say give it a year, after something so serious.
I know until then, I can't fully be free.
Neither freer.
I want a chance to forget, If I was given a real one, not false, I would run away with it.
I really would try.