I would really love to start over new. Get in my car, fill up my tank of gas, and drive until it runs on empty. Keep on going when the the little orange light flashes up at me, no matter where I am, I'll be happy. I might meet someone new, someone interesting, with a life story far better than mine. A story that breaks my heart with sadness and makes my eyes tear up in laughter. I wish I could know everyone, I get a sinking feeling inside with the fact that I never will. Millions of faces that I'll never see, with smiles that will stay forever worthless to me. I feel like that's not how it should be. I'm trapped in the world I've been raised in, but it's all my fault that I haven't gotten myself out of it yet. My car is sitting less than twenty feet away from my body, yet I hold myself back because I know I would cause disappointment. I have repetitive dreams where I get sliced up by ceiling fans, I wonder what that means. Or spinning my car out of control through the air and watching my clothes fly around the inside of my car in slow motion as the blood drips down my hands. And outside of my window birds fly past me, just living their lives while my car crashes down on the ground below them, but of course I don't die, I walk away from crushed metal that once was my car and all I wonder is what I'm doing with my life.

I cannot find a pattern and make it stick
Nothing is beautiful enough to keep going on forever
The repetition becomes dull, tiresome
I would like to meet you
A handshake that says hello to a life that's just beginning
And if I've already met you,
I'd like to know you
Know the inside of your hands,
your scars and their stories
how you're feeling by looking at your eyes
But I cannot help but want to run away
from the thought of my life on re-run
Maybe you will run with me
Maybe you feel the same
I'd like to think I'd prefer the repetition of someone
rather than being alone

and i feel dead because i'm not really living my life, just what everyone else considers living. i don't like following a plan, but what else would i do? i want to set my foot on every inch of the earth, yet i've lived in indiana my entire life. i feel like i'm inside of a cage and you just won't stop talking no matter how loud i yell. i hate when you talk about him like that and i hate when he talks about you like that. i never want to hear it. i can't even look at you in the face without snapping myself in half and it's funny because you are never there to pick up the pieces.

i'm content on my own, even in times like these, but that doesn't mean i don't miss you. and it's better to feel loved than to feel alone even if you want no one else around. i want to count the raindrops on the window before they're all gone. it's like the sky is crying a battle for how many tears it can shed and it always wins no matter how big of a puddle i leave on the floor yet no matter where the tears come from, they evaporate the same.

The hours start repeating themselves
Like the hands of the clock moving the same circular path
The only thing differentiating each hour
are the numbers we read
Just the page numbers of story of our day to day life
A 24 page book with the same ending up until we die
Days and weeks turn into months with no change but the seasons
The calendar is just a piece of paper,
Leading you to think your life is full of importance
While your mind is numb to the thought of your dull life
I sit awake hoping that it will never be me
That I will find myself never in just one place

I dreamt of limp arms,
hundreds of them
hanging over the side of a bridge.
Every time a ship sailed underneath
the fingernails from hundreds of dead bodies
scraped the wood of the top deck
slowing it down ever so slightly
as if they had something to say.
Thousands of fingers pointing downward
counting thousands of ripples in the river.
The riverbed holding old fishing hooks,
ink from old letters that were never read,
the blank paper that no longer holds meaning
Screws, rotting wood, anchors holding nothing in place
a lens from a pair of old glasses belonging to an old pair of eyes that no longer see
pieces of life jackets that failed to save lives
broken tea cups where fish now lay their eggs
wedding rings and broken promises
bones from fingers pointing the blame at everyone but themselves
of watches full of water and stopped time
And the hands of the dead bodies will forever point downward
Like the hands of the broken watches

We crave the attention of so many bodies
So many eyes looking our way
Hundreds of smiles we return
Yet we still have this void
The emptiness within
What will fill me up?
God, how easily I lose my grasp
on what makes my face light up
My heart remains warm
So easy to turn to the faces that do not know who I really am
How can I find myself in the eyes of the selfish?
So many fragile hearts,
Too many broken
The hands of the clock lay limp
We're wasting our time anyway
Constantly planning our futures
up until we die
Breaking over and over again
Up until the glue has run out
Where has all the time gone?

The leaky pipes up within the clouds
They're pouring down on me
The rain is warm,
it touches the skin like delicate fingertips
Pleasantly soaking me inside out
Washing away the dirt layering itself on the outside of my soul
What was once wearing me thin
Is now a puddle surrounding my feet
I'm free to walk away completely pure
Hand in hand with the sky