could maybe our medicine
be the wind in our hair
lost in those aura of city lights
dancing on your rear view mirror


could the passerby's

be our testimony.
just by the whit in their walk?


and i still wonder
if we all had wings
if we all could fly


would there be stop signs
and green lights in the clouds?


could we make conversation with the birds.
and pain ourselfs with the atmosphere.



i am the girl
who envys you

i write in my journal about you
and i take time to practice your laugh.



i try to do my make up like you
and raise my eyebrows when i try to be serious

the serious cute thing you do.





i cross my legs
and fold my napkin


i try to hold my L's longer.

and say my S's harder.




and i am the girl
that emptied the trash beside
you and your boyfriend
eating and chatting away
over a cup of coffe maybe


sip it slow so it doesnt sting
and take a breather to remind yourself to be calm



you always try to eat pretty to impress.


when life gives you lemons
stuff your bra and call yourself pamela anderson.


if you like me raise your hand
now slap yourself with it


i was scared to tell you this but one time
i listened to the song broken by seether
i kissed my pillow and hugged it tight
pretending it was you



and i still cant listen to that song to this very day
because i remember how stupid i was. as he highfives his best friend for the mistake you made
all you can feel is how much it meant to you when he told you he loved you in the process



dont do it.


i am not like you.
so keep cocking your head to the left.
put me in a museum, stare at me and put finger prints on the glass.
im sorry if i disappoint you with saying this,
but i can't promise i'll put on a show for you.



one time i was laying in my bed
and i pretended it was a slab of wood
i was floating in the ocean
and no land was near
i inched tot he edge of the matress
and i closed my eyes
i rolled over and
about broke my theigh
then i felt weightless
i held my breath
and in that moment i just wanted someone to lift my head above water
even knowing no one was around
cause i knew i couldnt do it myself
and i layed there
smelling the stiched fabric underneath me
and i passed out
and never woke up
or at least i didnt want to.





i am not like you.
so keep cocking your head to the left.
put me in a museum, stare at me and put finger prints on the glass. but i can't promise i'll put on a show for you.