A Secret from the Scars that can Speak And the Time I was Lost for Weeks

Maybe I'm just in over my head.

It's been a rough night.

At least I'm not yet dead,

But I'm not sure I wanted to survive.

I think I forgot to take my meds...

They make it easier to smile.



I hope they don't find out I'm writing again.

I don't want to go back to the white - the empty,

Place where my thoughts are free to be all but my friends,

Where they poke, prod and inject me.

But to say it was all bad just depends -

Depends on what you like to see.


Sometimes I forget,
Sometimes I wish I could.
I'm not a bad kid -
but I'm not quite good.

Sometimes I can remember,
But the memories all fade.
Like in last September,
When I thought I had it made.

Now I know what it feels like to be,
Wrong, used, betrayed, hurt.
I don't know why they isolated me,
But it was for a good reason, I'm sure...


I'm not supposed to tell anyone what's going on.

I'm not supposed to let them know where I was.

At least when I was there I felt like I belonged.

Everything out here is covered in dust -

Soon it'll all be gone.


I'm not up to living large (living at all)
I don't know if I'm telling the truth...
I'm not looking forward to death (or the darkness that follows it)
What would stop me from lying to you?
I'm not honest all the time (and I don't usually try)

I'm still a little rusty but I know enough to let you know that no matter what I let let you go - but I'm leaving this town for a year or two to forget about the scars and nights I spent drunk and high staring at the sky.