Remember Charlie, remember Baker. They left their childhood on every acre.
My pretty little masochist, never learned the defensive method of duck & run.
Full of forgotten names & jars of hopes & dreams.
Its dark here & there is no one telling me things. There is no one watching me. There is no one thinking, 'what a shame. She had potential. She had everything.' Had. Had. Had. I had everything and now all I have is this dark space somewhere between sleep and dead. It's quiet here. There are no thoughts. No noise. No eyes. No walls. Just black & black & black. The kind that could swallow you whole and I'm surrounded & it's soft and my mother isn't here. She isn't here & she doesn't have the look on her face like she's always about to cry. Like she's always about to cry because of me. I am nothing here. I am not a human being. I do not even exist. I am the darkness & I can't see me & I can't hate me & I must have taken too many pills this morning. That's all. Too many pills too early in the morning & now I'm sleeping & this is a dream & I'll wake up a& be catapulted back into life & my mother's voice & the eyes & the walls & the noise & the thoughts. I want to sleep forever.
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