it's sort of funny how we convince ourselves of many things,
in order to fit into our perception of reality, like
take for example, you
this person who I thought was like the universe, so
mysterious and beautiful, so
underappreciated and ignored, so
I launched myself into your space, and
I suppose somewhere along the way, I
saw the black hole in the distance, I did yet
I chose to admire the millions of stars and the planets, thinking
that that inevitable end was oh so far, yet
I was wrong because, the thing about black holes, and
the thing about you really, is that nothing can escape them,
they consume everything no matter what, they
have no regard for beauty, no intent on doing anything I would consider to be good, but
they do not know any different, that
is what they have to do to exist, and
I just wish that you would have been the universe instead of the thing that destroys it.

I am sure that somewhere among the wilting and lonely parts of myself, somewhere
six feet deep within the graveyards of my brain, there
is something to be salvaged, something
that can grow again, something
that can save me, but
I suppose it is simply a matter of whether or not I choose to search, whether
or not I think it is worth searching, whether
or not I think that I am worth saving, and
as of right now I do not think so, but
somewhere happiness does lie, and
perhaps I will find it someday, whether
I choose to live or die.

dark clouds cover the sunshine in the dismal sky of my mind, creating
thunderstorms of sadness that spiral out of control and suddenly,
suddenly the flowers I have been trying to grow, and that
I thought would be helped by the rain regardless of its abundance,
are drowning,
they're dying from the very thing that was supposed to help them, and
I do not think they can ever be saved.

please, spare me the spoonful's of sugar you claim will make the sickening medicine, meant to heal the wounds you created, go down.
my dear,
just because you sugarcoat your words,
does not mean they taste any less bitter.