My heart is in my mouth

I could meet a man one day
And feed him pieces of my heart
Then he would spit them out and say
He doesn't like the taste of blood

So I'll cook them a just a bit
Just enough to make them sit
But before the stove is on
I'll turn around and he'll be gone


Hey God, I think you owe me a great big apology.

I hope they cannot see
the limitless potential
living inside of me
to murder everything.

Acclimating to Calgary is a lot harder than I was expecting it would be. I used to be really sad that I was living so far from my family, but having my mother breathing down my neck everyday is bringing the same feelings. I think I'll stay at school for a couple extra hours tomorrow, just to get away. But I hate it there too. I hate the students, I hate the hack artist teachers. I was supposed to meet my class for a field trip at the train station at 2, but getting there at 2:03, they had already left. I wanted to stab that teacher's eyes out. I'm not meant to be in art school but I have no where else to be right now. For now, I have to spend everyday surrounded by people my age who act like they're ten years younger than they are. I try really hard to feel like an adult, but it's hard when my mother talks to me like a child, and when every other person at my school is so infantile, they seem autistic. I've been trained to hate people so much that making friends seems like a repulsive endeavour. Only problem is I've started to hate myself.