Eight new lines on my leg

Like the games of 8-ball I always lose against her

Making peace with my failures

Because I’m only going to die anyway

My heart beat-beating

_I want to kiss her_

I bombed the science final

But next year I’ll be at a school for **science** and technology

I’m wondering if that’s okay

Wondering if I’m screwed

I’m playing with fire

Playing with life

With people

Yet I feel no guilt

Only a bit of mild concern

Listening to Boken by Lund over and over

Because this is a new kind of self destruction

One that leaves me grinning like a child with paint

At the mirror while I watch my skin turn red

It’s a new kind of self destruction

One that I think I like

I might even love

Do I love her?

**_Am I okay?_**

I might seem like a train wreck from your view

But none of them have any idea

So it can’t be that bad right

And there’s a war waging within me of apathy and hypermania

If that’s a word

Anyway both feelings seem fine by me

Is that normal?

It’s raining outside

Pouring

And the trees are swaying back and forth

Yet the rain is soft and the trees look content

Like me

The image outside the window is exactly how I feel

Is that normal?

I’ve been fighting myself with all these mind tricks

And games no one can win

I always used to lose

Because how could I ever win when my enemy is myself

No matter what I did I always lost

And I’m sick of that

So maybe I’m insane

Maybe the thrill going through me is really concerning

But I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care

Because **_I’m winning.

_****_

_**I’m.

Finally.

**Winning**.