The Rumours Are Back

The lies you tell your self spreading around the crevasses of your brain.

The ones that say your not enough.

It's ridiculous to expect everyone to love you.

Ridiculous to expect everyone to like you even.

Crumpled up inside my ears is a list of things I know to be false.

But somehow these post-it notes demand that they're real.

I'm not enough, I'll never be enough

I just need to get outside my head

Squish my skull with my fists and throw it in the trash.

The warranty is up, did I even get one?

I thought it was never going to break.

Too many scratches in the flesh of my scalp

Too many cracks in my brittle bones.

Wash the grime away, scrubbing my skin with steel wool and bleach.

Stop, it's not outside it's in.

Coat my lungs with Lysol

Powder my heart with nostalgia

Rinse my bones and place each one in the dish washer

Unzip my skin and put it in a zip lock.

Drycleaners special.

And my brain, fuck my brain.