Somebody please help. There has to be somebody please because I'm not strong enough anymore. I thought cutting myself would help but it can't take everything away. I wish there was something I could take that would make me fly so far away because just opening my eyes and facing the day is too hard to do every day. I'm lost. What happened to that little girl so full of promise. Where'd she go and when did I get stuck with this horrific monster. I am Frankenstein. All sewn up and patched together from my scars. I'm a patchwork of everything I hate. And there's so much love in the world. So much. But all these people hurt. And I can cry for them all. Iv got too much love.

The Fizzy Soda Pop Kid So she loves lemonade soda. Drinks nothin but. Soda pop cereal and soda pop tooth brushing. Soda pop to down those dolls and soda pop to drown them too. Water water everywhere and not a drop she'll drink. Just soda pop soda pop oh soda soda soda.... So the lemonade soda baby girl dreams of a soda pop world and dreams the bottle round herself. Soda bottle glass windows and nobody else she has to share with. Floating in her solipsistic sea of soda. And this bottle won't pop. This dream won't pop. She dreamed it real. Real taste real #life. One day soda pop baby girl sees outside of her soda pop glass bottle window a boy. He looks kinda dirty but it's just the cola colour of his cola pop bottle. And her sweet soda soaked heart melts. But she can never reach the cola boy because the glass of their soda bottles is so thick. And cola and lemon don't mix. Don't mix at all. Soda pop baby girl starts to cry. Her bitter tears taint her lemonade. And as she drinks her lovely soda pop lemonade the bitter concoction transforms her into a bitter sherbert lemon. On the other side of the soda pop glass she sees her cola boy was never anything but a fizzy cola bottle.

Breakfast Cereals For Chumps You don't eat at tiffanys. Don't wanna sleep don't wanna die just wanna go a-travellin through the pastures of the sky. Smoking marlboros, leaning out my window on hot summer nights, feel the run and the drain begging to be carried away.... In my mind I'm always travellin in trucks with boys

.......down By The Lake Feel the rushing seductive lightness of invisibility. The wind could just pick you up and carry you off someplace new where you can start again, wipe out those old scars, rub them off with an old yellow high school pencil eraser. Dear god make me a bird so I can fly far far far away from here. Someplace where you go down to the lake and dangle skinny legs, like 6 years old into the water and get real dirty while the sun burns what's left of you. Someplace where the boys drive trucks fast and he sings sings to his baby girl... Damn. One of those lights low, lock the door, let your hair down, loud music kinda nights. These nights you wanna take a razor to your leg to feel the cool trickle running over your skin on the hot summer blacks. They're the blacks. And the sound is the blues. And the percussion, that's the splats against W's bathroom tile as I felt the lightness come and dear god I'm a bird and il fly far far far away from here. Watch the pool spread and then clot and grow a skin, thicker and tougher than your own skin and it can take all the shit you can't take and nothing will get through. Those nights. Those nights are true romance. And afterwards you can run (baby I was always born to run) and who cares what place you're running cos the wind takes your little body far far far. If I leave here tomorow would you still remember me? For I must be traveling on now cos there's too many places I gotta see. If I stayed here with you girl things just couldn't be the same. Cos I'm as free as a bird now, and this bird you cannot change. Lord knows I can't change.