these strange, strobing lights have me feeling… some kind of way. i don’t know how i got here, but i don’t want to stay.

that i want to move to somewhere far, far away. where the bluebirds sing, and the wild things play. and i’m not alone, in my fucking bedroom, staring into this computer screen, waiting for someone to tell me that it’s gonna be okay.

because some days, i just want to be six years old again. want to read for hours, and forget my own when i look in the mirror. want to just spend my whole life, living for a stranger… because it’s sure as well easier, than whatever i’m trying to do.

better than sleepless nights. a bed of nails, a mug of lies. and if someone could just speak up, make a sound,grab onto my hand, that’s all i need right now.

and maybe… maybe i can find the courage, then. to step up on the stage, and grab the mic, cup the whole world in my hands. and let myself be loud the way i used to. maybe i can unfold a scrap of paper, and hand it to you.

i know it’s not perfect. but it’s all i have. and i know it’s true.

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