A funeral is my mind.
Where former lovers
and silver-tongued liars
attend their wake.

I spare no life when I can take.

An invitation from God
is what you’d need to depart.
But there is no God to be found here,
only your grievances and faults.

Stand steadfast and ready,
my reviled lovers and liars.
You’re in my dark abyss now
and you’ve taken your final bow.

Your procession has arrived.

One pill
Panic attack stops
Two pills
Anxiety goes
Three pills
I am high up in the clouds
Four pills
Who am I?

But I’m genuinely curious.

If I’m just a poet.

Or if I’m just sad.

****.

Do you see my sadness, too?

You don’t really care for poetry,
do ya?

Sometimes, pretending not to be sad
is easier than telling people you’re sad.

Maybe I don’t want success
maybe I just wanna get ******!