this infection

You want to know just what you took?
When not in use, I'm in a box.
You cannot see the dirty look
I give you when you turn the lock.
I have no clothes. I've only socks.
I'm not quite sure how you can't see
that being in here is a shock.
Just give me back the fucking key.

Your voice has always been a hook,
I always liked the way you talked.
You took my queen with just your rook
and then you made me suck your cock.
You didn't see I was a rock
when I was small between your knees.
All that's left are leaves and stalks.
Just give me back the fucking key.

I could be in the smallest nook -
you'd watch me like you were a hawk.
There's nothing wrong with reading books,
there's nothing wrong with taking walks
or hiding when it gets too hot.
But I am she who haunts your dreams.
You have me in a tricky spot.
Just give me back the fucking key.
You have to own this. You have bought
and now possess this part of me,
but there's one way that this can stop -
Just give me back the fucking key.

If I could only count the times
when I declared that I had quit.
To relapse is a sort of crime.
You know, it makes me fucking sick
that you are such a hypocrit.
I thought that you would understand -
I chase the thrill. I need the hit
but nothing ever goes as planned.

You say that I am weak of spine
because I need to have my fix.
I said that I'd be home at nine,
you said I'd better make it six.
I don't care for your little tricks,
the way you take and then demand.
When I am down, you get your kicks
but nothing ever goes as planned.

At last I ran into the pines,
the hiding place that I had picked.
I think that everything's a sign,
I glorify and worship sticks
and form another cicatrix -
my inner drama's just so grand.
I try to form my private myths
and nothing ever goes as planned.

It really was a little slit.
you wouldn't care if it's a brand.
I'm trying to get over it
but nothing ever goes as planned.

August 18th marked seventeen years
since my first stay in hospital.
It's always been my biggest fear

that I'd somehow forget it all.
The months, they passed. The seasons changed.
Before I knew it, it was fall

and time was funny. Time was strange.
I only hoped that I'd fit in,
that I could learn to play the game

that I could wear a hollow grin
and fit in with the patients here.
But I was odd and I was thin.

I swear to god, I was sincere.
I saved so many souvenirs.

Inside of me there is a hole
as deep and black as any pit.
The truth is, that my only goal
is finding something that will fit
and somehow fit inside of it
so that I am no longer bare.
It makes me mad enough to spit,
I end up pulling out my hair.

I didn't lie. I never stole.
I only pierced my bottom lip
in an attempt to fix my soul -
reactions are a brutal hit.
It startles me and then I trip.
It shouldn't matter, I don't care
if you don't like the way I strip.
I end up pulling out my hair.

I chase the high when I am low.
I do it for the thrill of it.
I like to take off all my clothes
in front of strangers. Here's a tip -
desire's something you can skip
if everyone just stops and stares.
It makes me want to gouge and rip.
I end up pulling out my hair.

I do not have a solid grip
on all the things that brought me here.
I'm confused. There is a split.
I end up pulling out my hair

The ghost who haunts inside my room
has been there for a hundred years.
I tried to hit it with a broom,

it hit back. I burst into tears.
I wish it lived some other place
that was far away from here.

I've never even seen its face.
It rattles doors and bangs on walls.
I keep the lights on, just in case

but all this fear has scared me small.
It killed the flowers, they don't bloom.
I fall down to my knees and crawl

but there's a certain type of doom
the ghost brings, and it won't leave soon.

I carry in me such a rage
which begs and pleads to be let out.
If I just had a different name

I could ignore the way it shouts,
I'd close the door and lock it shut.
You'd never find my whereabouts,

I'd be the girl who does not cut.
If I was renamed Isabel
I'd be the girl who is a slut.

I'd be the girl who does it well.
I'd still be wild. I'm not tame.
There are some things I'll never tell,

I swear I wouldn't be the same
if I just had a different name.

the tides roll over angry shores
i close my eyes and shut my mouth
everything is such a bore

i sometimes think of going south
i need to get away from home
you need to know that i'm about

going places all alone
that way no one talks to me
i am as silent as a stone

when no one's there to watch me grieve
talking sometimes is a chore
leave me alone just let me be

if you come by and ask for more
i'll shut you out and slam the door