The future screams to me
And so does the past
It wants me to succeed
It tells me of my torments
I want it
I want nothing to do with it
I hear it screaming begging waiting
I hear it whispering whimpering waiting

The days are meager
Meaningless
Insignificant
Except they're not
Not here they aren't
There are hours and hours
Of group and home towers
The seconds fly by
Like the sun in the sky
You wilt and you grow
Stuck with absolutely nothing to throw
You laugh and you cry
But cont;nue to try
The days are mighty
Meaningful
Magnificent

Have you seen my heart?
I might have lost it
Have you heard my heart?
I might have misplaced it
Have you felt my heart?
I might have left it behind
Have you tasted my heart?
I think you might have eaten it

There's a sensation in my *******
It's annoying and raw
They tell me it's just cause I have to ***
But to me it's all wrong
It associates itself with hands on my thighs
With unwanted whispers in my ear
With a finger in me
A finger that is not mine

There's a sensation in my *******
That makes me feel unsafe
It makes me want to chop it off so I never feel again
It makes me leave my body
It makes me never want to come back
It makes me want to cry
It makes me want to die

My arm is wrapped in white
My arm is covered in red hard things
My nails and my arms don't get along
They battle a lot
My arm hardly ever wins

I wrote a note
No
I wrote the note
The note of notes
The final note
Well what was supposed to be the final note
I was in the tub
The last tub
With a blade
The blade
Against my wrist
The right wrist
Because the left is the second wrist
But my note
The note
Wasn't printed out
It was still on my phone
How can you write a note
The last note
And not know that it will be seen
So I wrote the note
The last note
And now I have a chance to write more notes
So what do I do with the last note