I envy those who can eat without conscience
I long for the infamous day when "things will get better"
I strive for an impossibility that I can feel within my reach
I expend the necessary energy to achieve a negative net
My mind rattles with number and limits
Counting the minutes 'til my next meal
Portion control and restrictions
Fighting the urges of binges
They say I'm just skin and bones
But what I see is all I'll know

I remember we used to play Kick the Cactus until we realized...
                
                  *****, this hurts

You want me to steep myself in your fantasy
Like a bag of tea
But I am not a bag of tea.
I cannot make your dull story any more tasteful
I cannot be the woman of your dreams.
I will not make you any better
Because I am not a bag of tea.
Soak me in scalding water
I refuse to let myself go
I refuse to let anything seep
I am bitter and sheltered
And certainly not your cup of tea
I cannot soothe you to sleep
Or give you the energy you need
I will not nurse you back to health, becoming your new home remedy
**Because I am not a bag of tea.

Is it a coincidence?
I think not.
It's not just one of those serendipitous happenings where both times we meet are budding from me ******* up.

I may be staring intently at something that isn't there
but I believe it's a sign just as much as the one you always ignored at the intersection.

Me ******* up equals me seeing you.

It's not a perfect formula but I'm still working out the kinks
God, you know how I love math
I'm probably just grasping at something and anything that means I can be with you for just one more instant

I know you see what I'm doing here
And I thank you for playing along
Do whatever you will
Just don't correct me when I'm wrong

I'm trying to **** up

You know that feeling after you've downed a drink when you find youself breathing a little quicker

That's how it is being with you.

I'm drowning at the bottom of your glass, always gasping, breathless
Struggling for air after another swig of your emotion
But you're still oblivious, clinking your glass under the false pretense of giving Cheers

That was my smile.
A little uneven, a lot of perfect.
That was mine. And you gave it to her.
**You really ought to stop giving away my things.

This sadness, this numb
It is not poetic.
I cannot write about galaxy ridden veins
or fire seared eyes

This sadness, this emptiness
It is not beautiful
There will be no heroic sweeping away of broken princesses by
princes with cigarette clenched teeth
or ***** laced lips

This sadness, this gut-wrenching pain
Will not be daises in Marlboro boxes
It can't be unraveled threads sewed back
by an infinite but dysfunctional love

No, no.

This sadness isn't any of that.

This sadness, it's raw
It hurts to look at but it's torture to bear
People look away from this type of sadness
Because it sure as hell ain't pretty.
But what it is is real
This is the sadness that, once moved past, is never forgotten

It's worn like armor in battle
Like a coat of arms

This sadness makes you a **soldier

Eat till you're sick
Just as a big ******* to this *****
This ***** inside my head
Who won't stop until I'm dead
She puts tape over my mouth
And a scale under my feet
Then the worst part is, she'll make you believe without a doubt
That she's doing you a good deed
Like she's doing this for you
But what she really does in fact
Is take your whole life and refuse to give it back
And just when you think you have a reprieve
Like you've actually escaped her spiny clutches
She yell at you that she'll never leave
And about how you've lost your muchness
Then you'll eat a little something
Just to show her who's boss
But then something turns to nothing
And you're obsessed by how much you've lost
This ***** will whisper snide comments at you all throughout the day
Pounding away at your self confidence so all that's left is self-hate
A high residual between who you are and who you ought to be and how the only thing standing in your way is all these ******* calories
She'll make you turn on things you once loved
Till food becomes the enemy and she turns you into something that only she loves
She'll tell you lots of things to get you seeing bones
But what she won't tell you is that her methods are never condoned
What she won't tell you is how she paints on your mirror at night
That way you see what she wants and not what's right
What she won't tell you is that she's just a scared little *****
Who's not even real
No, that ***** won't tell you that it's okay to have a meal

See her / right there
She pulling / her hair
She's stressed / and scared
She screams / they stare
But they / don't care
Her skin / she tears
This pain / she fares
Too much / to bare
She climbs / the stairs
The ledge / she dares
Suspended / in air
Escaping / the lair
Of scars / to spare
Her heart / she shared
They dipped / in despair
She's gone / but now
They say / **"I cared"

When I say everything is crashing to pieces,
Falling apart before my very unadulterated eyes,
I don't mean it as a metaphor.
No. I mean things are literally breaking to bits.

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
With every step I take across this suspension bridge, I can feel the ground give way to my weight and endlessly tumble and twist toward its impending demise to the unsuspecting ground below. (Albeit, it has yet to have trouble with the racing automobiles wizzing past me with a taunting doppler)

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I have the Midas touch.
Only, when things come in brief contact with my fare skin, they need not turn into gold but rather chaos.

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
With every flip of the switch comes an explosion of glass bits and fiery yellow sparks shooting awry (give my thanks to the short fuse)

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I attempt to live out my usual ordinary uneventful lifestyle, and I leave a wake of destruction in my route to the corner store! (Remind me to apologize to the florist- I'll have to get him some newly birthed petunias)

When I say everything is crahsing to pieces, I mean
I fear cutting onions lest the knife get fed up with being dulled by various vegitables and find its way to my throat, holding me hostage in the kitchen via blade tip to jugular

When I say everything is crashing to pieces, I mean
I would be far from surprised if the monsters under the bed had a mutiny and overthrew their sane captain who keeps them from overturning my mattress every night, bless him

When I say everything is crashing to pieces,
Falling apart before my very mundane eyes, I don't mean it figuratively.
No. Things are literally breaking into tiny wooden splinters.
But don't you for a second dilute your mind into thinking this bothers me in any way.
I've learned to just let the pieces fall where they may

Honestly,
people have been telling me my whole life about **** I'm going to have to do.
Exercise, eat right, good grades,
hard work.
And you may call it weak or cowardly, (though, I do prefer the term loophole),  but I gave up a long time ago on doing any of it.

I gave up on life, and I've never felt more free.

What am I doing?
Reading, stressing, revising
On **** that will in no way further me in life
Why am I doing this to myself
Every day, semester, year?
All the stress, all the tears?
Pushing me past the breaking point and then pushing a little more 'til I'm going going gone

And yet I can't stop.
I can't just say "**** it" and forget about it
It has to be done
I have to be better than everyone
Who cares about mental health when there's a ******* exam tomorrow?
Goddamn,
Please be an
**A

Hello / goodbye
bent on / goodnight
Can't sleep / just cry
My dreams / I die
Don't live / survive
Im losing / the fight
Demons / unite
Take over / my mind
Can't see / I'm blind.
Get in / and drive
Away / behind
we're out / of time
People / they try
They ask / I lie
They hear / they buy
While I / stand by
And whisper / **"I'm fine"

This right here, this exact situation is the reason I keep my hopes down low. Why I practically walk over them, keep them dragging under my heels. I didn't want to end up like this. If you don't expect anything, you are contented with what you knew was inevitably going to happen. You can go about it in an I-told-you-so pessimistic manner.

But when you have even a slight hope of improvement, the reality drags you lower than where your hopes should've been. It's the lesson they give.
Now, things are complicated with too many loose ends. Too many people. People are loose ends. Too many appearances to unwillingly keep up.
Things would be so much simpler if there was no one.  I would spend my days blissfully alone, maybe even get done what I need to.
But now there are bridges that would be burned if I let loose the hermit inside me.
Lousy excuses for bridges, more like strewn pieces of driftwood in a creek, but passage nonetheless.
And however feeble they may be, they're still there, and destruction always leaves an aftertaste.
A smell of ashes in the air clogging your lungs when you come near.
Not to mention the other bridges that whisper about the fallen and create gated barriers of words.
Soon enough you're not in blissful solitude, but rather isolated speculation. You don't go unnoticed, but rather alone under watch.
Well, consider my lesson learned. Never make ties out of hope. Both with be weak and unfashionable. A fallacy at the very least. And you?
You'll end up being water under the bridge.

It was kind of like you were injecting me with yourself
Except you keep missing the vein.

The bruises on my arms became the out-played artsy reminder of your actuality
Though you made sure that when the reminder faded and healed you were right there to bring me back into your world of needles and twisted gravity

What makes you think you can leave for weeks
You're standing near but you've never been further away from my desperate grasp

The withdrawal of you is excruciating
Like a recovering alcoholic in a liquor store except there's no automatic door or transparent window to reveal a salvation on the other side.

The only salvation is taking another hit of you
So, that is what I shall do
Until the day I overdose on your *intoxication .

It hurt to smile, her stitches were too tight. Drinking her feelings away, she reaches for a Camel Light.
Scarred beyond recognition, she silently sits in waiting.
An agreement with the devil, alone sitting shaking.
Longing to be gone but the dead cannot die.
They creep in the corners and find a way inside.
Nestled in her chest where her heart used to be,
Lie fragmented dreams of the girl she should be.
Old toys left forgotten, now residing in the back of her mind.
There's nothing left for her so she breaks down and she cries.
Family abandoned, friends never there
She's the girl in grunge pictures with the molten blue hair.
Always a mystery with a rough exterior
Scars like tattoos of feeling inferior.
She's boarded up and let's no one in,
No place to call her own, her home is her skin.
You look at her bold beauty and think
why can't that be me
But she would trade all that and more if
**she could be free

I'm off to a wedding tomorrow
My plus one being the empty seat waiting for a mystery to sit itself down in it

Oh, about that wedding tomorrow?
The bride has a request....
Don't question the groom
And attempt to be a polite guest
Don't upstage the figure in center stage
And for the love of demands, be mindful of the dress
He's spent months and she's spent years
Leading up to this utopian day
Of white cake and dry tears
For those two words, sealing a promise of eternal affection, to be said
Ending a possible life of possible dread
And the fear of solitude to remain as that, just a fear

Such a seemingly simple request, don't you think?
The wedding tomorrow is sure to be worth a drink
Allow me to capture this essence of love
Marriage being such an on-the-brink

I'm off to a wedding tomorrow
My plus one being the grateful empty seat waiting for the solved mystery to kindly make its way to another bridesmaid

I sit around observing everyone carry on with their single-faceted lives.
How simple would it be to be only one person? Instead, I am left to deal with the repercussions of myselves.

    It's not my fault I'm different with every person, including myselves.

Or maybe it is. Maybe there's something wrong with your brains.

Perhaps, though whatever the reason, I believe we can all agree we are utterly mad
                                                       Agreed.

How funny it is to have someone deny a characteristic of my personality. For all they know, I could be everything they hate covered in a chrome mask reflecting everything they love.
It is of this I think when one expresses a liking toward me.
That affection is vain, they are admiring the qualities of themselves.
No one, not even I can see all my selves at one time. Some come along, new to my surprise
If I were to find a being who values things at more than, for lack of better word, "face value", then I may show them my selves and we would discover our selves together.

How odd would it be to look in a mirror.
     Oh now that is too many faces to look at
   Yes, but perhaps I would discover the gravity of it all - what's holding it together.
                     Enough of your nonsense!
                                Back to work, the lot of ya!

Have you ever heard the ramblings of a crazy man?  They're often like the mumblings of a sleep-talker. Unfiltered, unearthed from the blackened crevices of the burned truth.
     They're rooted in the torn up letters that you thought you threw out. In the prison of socially acceptable things to think
That send you into a whirlwind of what ifs.
     They're in the things everyone knows are true but are too paralyzed by fear to admit.
     In the vapid humor that covers up the paranoia. In the fear still lingering after the emergence of the Monster Town under your bed.
             But what does one do with these ungodly demons?

Perhaps the answer lies in the disregarded chemically corrected ramblings of a "crazy" man.
But who will be the one to open their ears
and tape up their letters
and open their cells
and embrace their fear for the greater good of the fading humanity?

You told me to descibe myself using metaphors.
I thought about this for a long time.
I am.... what? What am I?
I could go for the classic "plastic bag in the wind" but that even made me gag
I was just about to tell you some faux banality to sate your mind when it hit me

I am a metaphor.

I am a metaphor, never quite literally meaning what I say.

The heavens called the ocean to the sky and released bolts of liquid lightning
With the recently renovated target on my heart, it's no surprise one found its way, colliding with my body in a splash of salinity and electric sparks
The collision ignited my every cell, sending everything into overtime
My heart fluttered rapidly, my blinks keeping tempo
Time pasted in a turn of the head, blurring the scenery into a waterlogged painting
The day the heavens called the ocean to the sky, it released liquid toxins.
With the recent renovations, it's no surprise one found its way to the target on my heart with your name scribbled in salty letters across the bullseye

I feel like there should be a great poem spawning from this blatant attack on my heart
With linguistic tips and turns coinciding with my emotion
But that's just it.
There is none.
You have drained every last ounce of feeling from my body
So, naturally, when you made a big and public spectacle of how you desire her
I stood there stone-faced, frozen in stoical silence
The perfect poker face, you'll never catch my bluff
I saw that glance in my direction and smiled in return
That classic fake smile that never meets my dead eyes like a forged signature on an oath that avers everything's all right

Your scent, once cemented in my memory, has now faded
It comes back occasionally
A fleeting reenactment of the original
Nonetheless, it still soaks me in nostalgia
And I find myself needing to catch my breath
Just like it used to catch whenever you showed up

They tell you to smile all the time
But then wonder why the hell you're smiling all the time, saying it makes you look suspicious

They tell you to tilt your head and you'll see things a little bit different
But then wonder what the hell is wrong with your neck

They tell you to speak your mind
But then wonder why the hell you're not shutting up

They tell you it's okay to be different
But then wonder why the hell a guy's wearing make up

They tell you to follow your dreams
But then wonder why the hell you're always sleeping

They tell you to stand up for what you believe in
But then wonder why the hell you refuse to sit down

They tell you all these goddammed double standards
But then wonder why the hell you don't listen

Nothing is stable
I'm just waiting for everything to collapse around me
Or maybe morph into something unknown because
nothing feels real right now and
I'm not sure I believe in existence anymore

It's probably just an illusion and we've all
been playing into the hands of a higher
power's experiment.
We are the guinea pigs of life and I refuse to be a mere
scientific "what if".

Now everything shatters, I've broken the curse
of the glass house.
Tell big brother he's now an only child and I've killed his flies who just so happened to
fancy perching on my walls.

I've uncovered your veil of secrecy
And I intend to expose your lies.
Goodbye im off to a place composed of
realacy for ground and infinity for skies.
Don't forget the perpetual hope for humans that is found so very seldom here.

Oh, what a place.

I really wish we were better
I wish we were the scenarios that I never stop creating
Because all this time I kept telling myself we would be so perfect
And yet it's been 10 months and I still can't seem to construct a logical sentence around you.

I really am witty and capable of speaking, trust me
It's just when you enter my vicinity you take all my words and smart-*** remarks away
All I can focus on is how beautiful you are and the fallacy of my ever growing affection for you

So I understand why you don't talk to me and
I don't blame you for wanting someone else

I thought I could get better over time but obviously that isn't the case
I'll just remain worth this strip of duct tape over my face

The days are so contrasting
Yesterday I was broke and under hell
Crying the sadness out of me in salty waves
Today I am placid with soft music in the background
There's so much emotional whiplash
I don't think my head can take much more of this constant motion
Take me off this ride
I need to fix myself inside
Find the source of my discomfort
Because if I know anything its that
Something ain't right
Depressive nature
But something in me is fighting
The will to stay alive
It's me against my mind
I'm not you're not alone
No we have allies
We have allies
We have allies
I don't know if I can stomach what you're about to do
I hope I can get through
But there's still a part that doesn't want to
Clashing bodies in a perpetual war
The war cries are so loud
I drown them out play lists and Blink 182
The tumult cacophonous
Discord with every note
I oughta tell someone about this life
But out my mouth comes only lies
But I bet I couldn't even if I tried
No no couldn't even if tried
Where the **** are my allies?
I had allies

It's too bright and yet there's not enough light
And my eyes are losing the fight to dilate
in the darkness
Pupils never big enough to see
The inconsistent haze that has become my
life

I passed you in the stairwell today
All I could manage was a cracked-voice
"hey"
It was a quick encounter with the devil
The devil that takes my guts away with a glance
Paranoid looking over the should just for
a chance
I shrink back against the hand rail so I
don't fall
'Cause that's just what don't need, a
plummet to the ground where I'd beg and crawl
To be back on my feet

Which you so gallantly swept me off of
You were my King and I couldn't help but
bend to your will
But now I see the pedestal I just stepped
you off of
But you seem to think you're on it still

On something, I'll give you that
To think you can touch me like that and
you'll magically be back
In my good graces but goodness
gracious are you far from it
Remember the plummet? Remember
your games and how I loved it?
Because
I couldn't say no to competition and oh God
there was so much of it.

I wanted to be the winner but I don't think I ever wanted the prize
Just the thought of being the best and
honorably succumbing to your lies
Beating the other girls you so often
enticed
But it's all in good fun, these games and
your vice....right?

Playing with my emotions like old toys
left forgotten
But you've forgotten the best part
You can't take something that's not there
No, you can't take my heart

I'll lead you on again, say hi again on the
stairs
Make you think you got me right
This way you'll know what it feels like to
be a player
but never win the prize.



*******.

These calories have made their way into my dreams
A place where I used to feel comfortable
Like anything could happen and I was, for the most part, optimistic
They've infected my subconscious and now
I'm not allowed to have that imaginary meal for fear
It may put on some imaginary weight.

I used to say you were the only thing that consumed my sleep
But I'd be lying if I say that this isn't an increasing occurrence, these numbers
These numbers, always in the forefront of my mind
Never leaving me alone for a moment to think
With infected sleep, there's no safe place for me
No place to run from these numbers, these *calories

All I seem to do anymore is
cry
      and sleep
                     and cry
                                  and think.
The thinking is horrible.

Worse than any salty tear
burning the cuts you left on my cheek
from your razor blade lips.
                                     ◇
All I seem to do anymore is
pass out
            and dream
                               and pass out
                                                    and scream.
The screaming is horrible.

Not because my vocal chords are straining to keep up with my upsurge of emotion
But because it sends a shudder through me  every time the illegible shouts start to sound like your name

I'm suffocating
I'm frantically searching for something to give me air
To save me
But nothing works.
I look around me and I see people going about their business
As if they're not aware they're all underwater.
How is it they're breathing?
Are their lungs not filled, are their throats not burning on fire?
Where do they find time to smile?
Why aren't they struggling against the depths to reach the surface
Where solace may or may not lie
I scream at them, and the bubbles cloud my face
I'm flailing my arms about for their attention
But no one turns their head
They just keep walking underwater

YOU ASKED WHY MY HAIR IS SO MANY HUES OF BLUE
       WELL...
I NEED ONE TO MATCH THE COLOR OF MY BLOOD
AND ONE TO MATCH THE COLOR OF MY MOOD
AND ONE FOR THE SKY
AND ONE FOR THE MOON
AND ONE FOR THE VEINS THAT
          S  T  R   E    T     C      H
ACROSS MY PALE SKIN
AND ONE FOR THE TEARS OF THOSE NOT AFRAID TO WIN
AND ONE FOR THE JEANS, FADED IN THEIR GLORY
AND ONE FOR THE HELL OF IT BECAUSE

        NATURAL  
                              IS
                                    **BORING.

Why must everything be masked with metaphors and merciless meanderings?
Is it considered insufferable to say what you want
Stripped of any ambiguity?
To just have it out in the open
Vulnerable and exposed?

It's not difficult, just follow my lead
I  l o v e  y o u
Or on a more negative note
W o u l d  y o u  s o  k i n d l y  g e t  o u t  
o f  m y  l I f e ?
Say what you want!
Exercise your first amendment  
Shout it out to the world!
Make it heard! Make it known!
This is what I have to say now **hear it!

We're just a bunch of ****** up teenagers

living in a ****** up society

and people wonder why we're all

hitting the self-destruct button

I used to wake up with texts
But now there's no one left
I dream of you but wake up alone
Everyone's gone, out doing their own
thing while I'm still waiting here at home.

Left behind and forgotten until we meet
face to face
Then, suddenly, "I miss you so much,
won't you please stay in touch" it's
suddenly a different case

But I do stay in touch, as per request, but
I'm met with oops I got to go
And the host becomes the guest.
Once again I'm here left alone

I could try to make new friends, meet new
people, but that's easier said than done
I'm still not sure how I made the old ones
They weren't the best but we still had fun

Maybe it's me, I know I project bitterness
And that can get hard to be around
But give me some warning, tell me the
reason, I promise I won't be angry
But that's just it, I'm always angry,
always bitter.
The second I step in, no one is to be found.
In a room of people, in a town of
strangers, I sit and stare at my twiddling
thumbs
I begin to block out my lonesome feelings
until I'm hazily numb.
I think it was for the best in the end,
because my time alone showed me how
to be my own best friend.

We could be a famous romance, you know.
Writing the story together, it would be whatever comes after brilliant.
My metaphor, my metaphor please let down your guard
Write to me in your personal tongue
Scream at me on parchment
Let's be the vintage cliché we've always admired.

God, I love it when you talk poetry to me.

We wouldn't just burn bridges. We'd set the whole godammed world on fire with our writer's love shining in their eyes,
blinding them with the metaphorical questionings of two adolescent souls resonating in their skulls.
But God knows this world has aged us far beyond our literal years.

Write to me, love.

Poem for poem, line for stanza 'cause we both know you can convey a message on a fortune cookie and have it smack harder than I could with a 700 paged memoir of the broken.

Let's carve history with quills writing in our blood.
Our unlived story thrashing in its nonexistence dying to become reality

I had just been through the worst year of my life
A ten month marathon of running, running, running away from the pain that was always biting at my heels
And you were there, but not there, every single day.
Not even on the sidelines
Not even noticing my lack of breath
Oblivious to the one that you're supposed to always be there for
It was the worst year of my life and I went through it all alone
So forgive me if I seem a bit surly, but I'm still trying to catch my breath.

And then the memories came flooding back
A tidal wave just relentlessly knocking me off my feet
A constant reminder of being alone
When these songs were my only friend
The only thing keeping me here
staying with me while I heave torrential sobs in the dead of night
Calming my nerves when everything became too much
Helping me get through good and bad days alike
Screaming what I could never say
Holding me together when all I could do was fall apart
It was and forever will be the glue keeping me intact

I
can't breathe.
Every *inhale sends burning acid to my
lungs
The water drowns me and pulls me down
And I'm falling deeper

The only moments where every breath
doesn't feel like I'm swallowing fire
Are when I sing along to the music that
delivers my soul
I can hear it through the waves, distorted
I scream out the words in a gurgle but for
that moment it's *less like I'm drowning
and more like I'm treading water
I breathe out the words which bubble in
front of my face
I feel lighter and more vulnerable
Any moment someone could turn off the
stereo
Or the Sirens could change their timeless
mythology
And I'd be left to sink once again
Even so, I can't stop singing along for
these songs are my lifesaver giving me a lifeline in a life of waterlogged lungs
And every line, verse, and chorus I'm
rising to break the surface

If we were ripping apart at the seams,
I'd take this blade in my hand and hand it over
I would rather the vultures of Hell pick apart my fragile skin
Than be the cause of the destruction of something so euphoric
It would be cynical for me to break the final thread
A crocheted heart lies within the refines of fine welded cell

Wasted
thoughts
But im perfectly coherent
Perfectly sober
Which makes this all the more difficult.
It's reality hitting me across the face
No mercy. Just pain.
Tears fall and my vision's blurred
Food, food,   numbers
Cut, cut   red
I can't hear my screams they're
Drowned out by the poison mix
I'm alone on the floor
God how I wish I couldn't feel anymore

Now
it's day
The day's ahead
The day's yelling at me to wake up
Social pressures tell me I'm fine
And I relay it back to the people that tell
me they care
They don't give a ****
They all hate you
Look at them laughing
They're laughing at you
Why can't you be normal
Just tell them you're ******* fine
Push them all the **** away
It wont mattet they'll hate you all the
same
You're a failure
Stop being stupid
God look how fat you are
You're a failure
Stop being stupid
God I can't believe you're so fat
Worthless, worthless, worthless
Day's over
Time to drop and break down
Day's over but nights just begun
No sleep, just war
No mercy Just pain
Day after day
Cycles of wasted thoughts in a sober
mind
Why can't I just stay sane

There's shattered glass on the floor still
The spidery cracks running from where my fist collided with my reflections
How long have I been here?
How long have I been wasting away in this tainted wonderland?

Controlled freedoms oppress my mind
Which is banging on the inside on my skull, wild with a fury to escape

I can't be out of my mind when all my problems lie within it.
Social pressures mean nothing when you're at war with yourself.

It's not easy when the thoughts in your head become twisted and tangled like Christmas lights.
No matter how hard you try to keep them straight, year after year, you're stuck fighting.

I gave up God knows when, throwing the thoughts on the ground in defeat
Watching the colored light die out
I'd always preferred the darkness anyway.

But even with the numb, there is still one thought protruding in the abyss
A small flicker in the outlet.
It lives on, thriving in the emptyness.
It ***** you in, limb by limb, 'til you can no longer breathe.

But that's what you wanted in the first place, wasn't it? Not to breathe? Not to be alive?

           I wonder if you can see the suicidal in my eyes.