Today will not be a good day.
I can tell already, by the way I was kept
up for a lot of the night, by the way the song
I keep wanting to play over
and over and over's talks about
'Some nights the blood from real cuts feels
real nice when it's really mine..'

And how everyone else is teetering on an edge.
I'm sick of this.
I've gotten so used to how things are in this house.
And then there are those moments, when you can
catch a glimpse into a life not yours,
and you realize.
'This is my life?'
When you return to everything.
Or, perhaps you don't.
Perhaps you smile and say "This is my life."
and go on about your day.

This desperation feels like home.
And more and more and more
I wonder:
Will I be stuck here forever?
Probably my greatest fear.

I could scream forever, until my lungs ache
and it feels like I'm dying. But I can't.
Instead I shall lull along and try.
Even if that is so hard.
Even if I don't quite recognize myself when
it's through.