Stream of consciousness,
My thoughts sans censorship
(The inside of my head is a place I would like to leave)
Before the plane ride car ride tram ride
I spent an hour in the shower with my fists against my knees
Trying not scream out.
Don't let them hear you,
Don't let them help.
Don't pull out the knife, it will only make the bleeding worse,
And don't twist it, it will rupture more organs,
And don't think about it, because that makes it real.
When people say, are you okay?,
Tell them that if you do not think about it it does not exist,
And you do not want to run away in the night,
And you see yourself as being a normal part or society,
And your entire body is not telling you to rebel,
And the person you want to kiss you is not the person who stabbed you in the first place.
This was never supposed to be about him,
And yet here I am
Day after day after day,
I do not think about it so it does not exist and
If I want to kiss him it is becoming someone else's problem and
When he says his trampoline is a good place to talk I do not want to cry.
My stream of consciousness is not a stream,
More of a river by now,
Just this and that and one after the other
Milliseconds apart and making me wish I could turn my thoughts off.