Love The Hangover, Hate The Taste Me; in a nutshell. I keep forgetting about this app, and I apologize. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. c: You You're so talented So beautiful So smart So bright So friendly And that doesn't even begin to start- Stop Fucking stop I can't handle this I don't deserve a drop of it I'm nothing but a liar A lukewarm-hearted confused mess of a liar And I love you all I really do But I cannot fucking stand half of you See Just I don't make sense I can't tell if it's the abandonment or my resilient lack of defense Just Back up I need to breathe I absolutely adore all of the spotlight But I can't act like it doesn't burn me I hate what I need And love what I shouldn't It's like being stuck in a hole while holding a shovel But I couldn't I wouldn't But god damnit, I want to Can't help but stare lovingly at what's left of the past stuck to my shoes And When Did I get so angry So angry all of the time You, you watch your mouth, learn your place You, get your stuck-up superiority complex the fuck out of my face You, I can't remember why I chose you in the first place Me- stop being such a goddamn waste of space Sabrina Stop this shit Play your music Watch your grades Flash the smile that people seem to love Swallow all of this sudden hate People have it so much worse And really, honestly, I'm aware And I'm breaking my spine every second Every time To make sure people know I truly care But it wears you down To nothing but a breakdown waiting to happen Tick Tock Tick Tock Louder And Louder It Will Never Stop And it doesn't bother me too much most of the time But then one of those days come around And it's like Well Okay Time to shine- Fuck this Fuck you Fuck everything any of you ever put me through You built me up so high, you had to predict that I'd end up crumbling around you I mean Look at this structure It's basically tape and glue All thrown together And now it's tumbling down around you You All of you Have created a monster And I'm afraid that even the strongest of firearms can't stop her She's lost She's confused She's got everything yet absolutely nothing to lose She's glorifying what's left of the past that's stuck to her shoes And she's breaking down quickly So decrepit and sickly And she's running out of reasons almost as quickly as the seasons To keep up the image we all want her to. Sabrina Smith©December 2012

Shamefully Naive Sitting here tonight, drowning in thoughts. All the battles I've lost, and all the wars that I've fought. Every lie that's ever slipped these lips, Every curse thats brushed these fingertips. Do me a favor; and make it quick, please- Grab my coat, and I've got the keys. It's not that I love you, or that I'm naive- It's just that I'm tired of living to please. And if you think that I honestly care, with your superiority complex lingering in the air; I'll show you what it's like to be scared. To be broken and mangled, beyond thinkable repair. You think you can fool me? Think again, son. I've lost more wars than you've even begun. And with your uptight thinking, you might think to have lost, is to lose. But think again, really. You've got 3 seconds to choose. One- Eyes blinking, sweat starting to pour. Your fingertips twitch as you turn towards the door. Two- Legs lock, vision fades to black. You start to ponder if you'll ever make it back. Three- Halfway through, you scream with defeat. Fallen defeated, a mess at my feet. What do I do, with this tangled complex? I draw your knife from my back, and you should know the rest. So do me a favor; make it quick, please- You grab my coat, and I've got the keys. Don't believe that I love you, although I'm naive. I'm just a sinner, with her heart on her sleeve. Nothing special here, just move along. Just another mess of a dreamer, with everything gone wrong. The devil caught her in a single embrace, got ahold of her soul from that single taste. She lost her way along the road less traveled. Now she's venturing alone, becoming unraveled. So do me a favor; make it quick, please- Grab my coat, and I've got the keys. You know that I love you, for I'm shamefully naive. If you love me at all, then please turn to leave. You know what I've told you, but I know it all. You deserve better than this broken hearted phone call. You don't deserve the things in my past...it's so true, the good things never last. So please, turn and go. Make this easy for me. Forget what we were, and what all we could be. Tell them I'm dead, with a burial at sea. Tell them the bad luck finally got the best of me. After all, I am the sinner with her heart on her sleeve. So do me a favor; make it quick, please. Grab your coat, and here are the keys. Forget that I love you, forget I'm naive. There's a quarter tank of gas, and a gun under the seat. Never turn back, don't cry for me please. This is how things were meant to be. Don't shed a single tear, don't let me see you cry. There's infinite begginings within this one goodbye. And I promise you, love- I'll always be your girl, with the kaleidoscope eyes. ©Sabrina Smith October 2012

Side Effects May Include: I curl myself up In this little Cocoon, of sorts Closing my kaleidoscope eyes, Hoping Pleading For a drop of the sweet liquor that is sleep The sheep Are taunting me, it seems Literally just Dancing Right upon my toes Too quickly to count So, there goes That Method I chase down a shot of reality with A sip of anxiety Laced with the slightest bit of insanity The burning aftertaste melts into a lingering distrust Causing me to Question Just why people Think The way they do Or Act The way they do Or Why my smile is So Goddamn Crooked And How Awful people can be so awful This Leads to my bed sheets My deliciously warm abode of cotton To slowly creep around my neck And As much as my fingers Were burning to rip at the sheets They were Frozen Seemingly glued to the mattress Tighter The sheets pulled Tighter The sheep Those goddamn dancing sheep Why weren't they saving me? Maybe Maybe I should have tried A little harder To count them in the First Place This is it I'm Going To Die By the fibers Of my bed sheets With Dancing sheep Mocking me At the foot Of My bed I think to myself "Maybe this isn't too bad" I let myself sink a Little Bit Farther The bed sheets get a Little Bit Tighter The night sky gets a Little Bit Lighter And The alarm clock sounds Before I ever know How it Ends ©Sabrina Smith October 2012

Explicably Unknown Her shuddering breath echoed throughout the room like dimes in a tin can. A blanket in the corner, several empty boxes of cereal, a single box of sharpies, some newspaper from god knows when, and a half empty bottle of vodka littered the floor. Or was it half full? Fuck if she knew anymore. She had always been on the pessimistic side of things. Ha. Wonder why. She slammed herself against the wall. Her bloodstained fingers trailed down the white paint, thousands of sharpie written words littering the wall like confetti. Lyrics. Insults. Words of hope. Pleads of mercy. Signatures. Dates. Tallymarks. Words of the hundreds, even thousands, that had been here before her. Splattered blood permanently stained the walls and wooden floor, even an engraving here and there. She wondered how someone managed to get a knife in there. She slumped over to the shattered mirror on the far wall. Her once cascading firey hair had matted into unruly snakes around her sunken-in face. Newly forming scars laced between older scars, raking their way down her cheek and jawline, snaking their way down her neck. Her lips were cracked and dull, her emerald eyes #lifeless. The rag of a tshirt hung loosely off of her thin frame, making her appear ghostlike. She spun around at a sickening speed, absorbing the room around her for the thousandth time. The white of the walls was slowly disappearing under all of the sharpie scribbles. They whispered at her, seeping through her eyes and infecting the darkest corners of her mind. And once again, the screams hit her. Screams of the cursed. The broken. The hurt. The fallen. The lost. Everyone. The countless screams of every last soul in the city hit her dead on, the force sending her crumbling to the floor. Her screams mixed with theirs, and before long, she couldn't tell a single thing apart. The world blended into one seeping, throbbing open scab of hell. The words. The screams. The splinters under her fingernails from digging into the wooden floor, holding on for dear #life. The bleeding sores she had bitten through her own mouth. The bloody trickle of vodka laced saliva making its way down her chin with each gut wrenching scream of insanity. It was time. She grabbed the sharpie nearest her with shaking hands, and crawled to the nearest corner of the room. In the farthest bottom corner, she scribbled "Laura Fitzgerald, 367 days." She picked herself up off of the floor, hastily grabbing the bottle of vodka, and left the room. ©Sabrina Smith October 2012

Brains Need Off Switches One of those moods Those god-awful moods I'm not knowing much of everything And I'm questioning Every Single Thing I've ever known Laying here blaring music Who's soft touch always felt just a Little bit Softer Than any boy that has looked my way Just curling up Wondering why I even bother Then I realize Just how Pathetic I sound And I'm disgusted with myself For being this low And even more disgusted in the fact that I can declare that this is low That Is Weak I don't want your help I Never want help from anyone And Maybe that's the root of my problems But What if it isn't really a problem Just Something that is what it is Something Has got to be wrong with me Why can't I just be One Of Those Girls That can just be happy all of the time Why must I Fuck Everything Up And then get even more upset when I realize Just How Self-pitying I sound And Then I Just Need to sleep. ©Sabrina Smith October 2012