Sometimes I'm a binge eater, drinker, lover.
Sometimes my hopes need to be taken from the clearance rack
and placed on higher shelves.
that's what the tattoo on my wrist tells me.
And sometimes I need to relax,
But I don't necessarily want to.
When I relax I forget my thoughts sometimes,
and that's okay every now and then,
and sex and drugs and alcohol all release the hold
of responsibilities grip.
I like to escape in people, its true,
and then I start to get weird and restless.
Sometimes I'm a social butterfly
who flies back to the cocoon every now and then.
Yeah, but you can't stay there.
until I'm starved of all my ates
only to again fill my plate.
for being gone so long,
and I'm sorry I'm a lot.
I don't make it that simple.
My parents laugh and shake their heads
and give me hugs
because that's how its always been.
I love the love they gave me
but I'm confused what to do with it sometimes.
I'd like to put it out there,
paint it in front of me,
and then breathe it back in,
sounds like I'm getting high off of love,
sounds like I haven't run out silly things to say,
but it's my own mess and I like it that way.