Maybe when I'm dead is when I'll be discovered
"Miss Walts of the technical age"
Someone will find my art and say "wow she really got it she really had it you know she was brilliant, a genius, truly great"
The best version of myself will then be shown
The romantized self analyzed by doctorates and lab coats
They'll all wonder what I really mean
And I'll be gone
Gone so they can't ask me
They'll mold me into a piece they really want
After death I'll return as a pawn
Crooning the voice of the people of our age
We all scream
"I'm not good enough
And because of this I cannot do a thing!
I can only make art from depressive relief.
Society is telling me everything to believe.
I can't think for myself for the life of me do not ask me a question because I never think!"
A self medicated self asbsorbed zombie
"No one has it worse than me."

The acid in my stomach starts to boil Hot blood in my vains curdles to a coil something hits my nose like sour milk; A three year spoil

You are a friend never trustworthy
A friend never loyal

They live there

In a pit
In the middle of my bed

Underneath the comforter and fitted sheets
And white flowers in baby blue
In between the springs and the stuffing

Sometimes they go as deep as the bed frame too

A hole deep down into the floor
Where the carpet just splits in two
Where it is cold and wet
But mold still grows
And I still think about you

They live there

They pull me back in everytime
It's not something very new to me
Because they've been feeding off me my whole life

They drink my blood like leeches
Even when I'm pale and drained
I'm so used to this I'm just speechless

But don't ask me to get up
Never ask me to get up
Because I'm still stuck in bed
from all this

Pain

Give me something to hold on to
Other than repeating the same
Mistakes

Why do I do this to myself
I do it all of the time
You put me back on your shelf
So then I'm hurt and "remember to Rhyme!"

Is it for the sake of art
Or is it for the sake of love?

I try so hard
But still get none
I try so hard
But I'm still not numb

I'm just dumb
You see at the end of the day I'm just a stupid girl


caught up in compulsion
Stuck in the current of the muddy waters of her own mind
She screams and screams
But the thoughts still take her away

They take her away and she loses herself

Obsessed with another one
Not a man
But an idea

I can't help it
They all only give me so much
I can't help it
They never want to stay
I can't help it
I only want to be enough
I can't help it
I call it love
But it's not the same

Take care of me
Coddle me
Tell me I'm yours
If I told you "I'm broken"
I'd be fishing for compliments
On empty shores

I do not know what to write
I have not for days or months or years
Or since I was born
Because
Some people wish to be free
I do not

I am afraid

I look in the mirror and I freeze
Captivated by my flaws
My ego sneers
"You're not good enough"
"You'll never be good enough"
"No talent no job no lover no family no meaning no purpose no life"

"No wonder why everyone leaves you"

And for a second
My sadness makes me feel real
And
Relatable
Because I am not an
extraordinary beautiful crestfallen angel


I am just a girl who writes ****** poems at 3:30 AM



But still it's the
mild differences
that make me feel
so alone