Sometimes,

I think of taking my hands
And ripping - splitting - cracking,
My ribcage in two.
                                                            ­            
The breastbone splintering apart,
My torso opening like a rotten tree.
The inside hollowed,
Like a lake that has been emptied
 
I've convinced myself that
Fragrant flowers
Would grow there.

That they would grow feverishly
In the gnawing gap
I had created.

And that time would preserve
What I had done.

I struggle to breath
Want to sleep but not tired
I want to talk but nothing in mind
I strain myself to be present
Spacing out my favourite thing
If im not present i cannot hurt
The source unclear
No one understand
Foreign language i have become
My silence unreadable
I crawl through the sewerage pipes of my mind
Desperatly trying to find the source
All this turmoil need a source
I wish you could hold me forever
Squeeze so tight my pieces fit
But when you let go
I fall
Brake and shatter
When you hold me i feel safe
I feel anew for the fight
But you always leave
You leave to rejoin your happy life
I realise the empty my life is
I hate my life

There I was
alone
sitting on the edge of the world.
My feet hanging off
Wondering if I should just give myself a hurl.
Inching my way closer, I felt the grasp of a girl.

How did you find me on the edge of the world?

She too came to leap from reality.
Misery was worn so elegantly
From that day
she started to love me delicately.

Together, we sit on the edge of the world.
Holding hands, so we never go alone.