I've recently stopped believing in the idea of soul mates.

It's the hardest thing to do; to inhale this tainted place with lungs already so full of fallen stars.

I spend my days battling mirrors and fist-fighting street signs.
And I'm bleeding from the inside out - bruises in the form of apathetic attitudes.
'Hold it in, hold it in until those withered lungs explode. Stupid... ignorant girl... you're just a kid.'

I exist between approximately three places and I hate them all equally.
Just as the sun in the sky, my fickle heart is always rising and setting.
I can never make up my goddamn mind while I struggle to hold onto the last
piece of myself that I haven't yet given away.

The transition between Fall and Winter has me waking every morning to fits of
definite despondence and tremors of disorientation.
And if it's true we're composed of 70% water;
there is certainly an uncharted ocean churning inside me.
I'm aware of what it feels like to drown in the sea of yourself -
To be suffocated by the binding of your own skin.

What do you do when the people who love you the most don't really love you at all? 

You've thrown every ounce of yourself, carelessly,
at ungracious participants of your stupid, so-called life.

You've sold yourself short of anyone who gives a fuck.

And what do you say when your vocabulary has been exhausted 

by a week of L train breakdowns and comparing relationships to seasons?

I've recently stopped believing in the idea of "soul mates."
I've recently stopped believe in just about everything I can't hold in my two wrinkled palms.