dust in my eyes that keeps me from seeing morning break

well, if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go cry a really good cry now because my guts and my insides are sort of in some frenzy, and i just want to sit in the shower with my knees against my chest, or lay under my sheets with my face burried into a pillow, or write some pretty words and hear some pretty songs, or highlight some pretty quotes in pretty books and watch my tears drop and stain them making wet circles that are much bigger than these tears really are. everything looks so much larger than it really is, damnit.

i want to sit indian style inside of my mother's closet with the lights off and sing while i cry. here's to the nights we felt alive, here's to the tears you knew you'd cry, here's to goodbye, tomorrow's gonna come too soon.

here's to trying to make teenage life bearable.