the death of a loved one
feels like using a single plaster
to heal a thousand stab wounds
& being expected to carry on as normal

inside of us
are tiny little buckets
filling up
and watches you grow up

then the slightest thing
makes it spill over
and every crevice of your being
is encompassed by pain

fleeing through the tear ducts
you are temporarily healed

can we live
at the bottom of the toothpaste tube
the part where no one can get you
and no one bothers to use you

i want to roll you up
like a cigarette
and inhale you into my lungs
so you can live there

and when i smoke you
i can still smell you
on my clothes
and in my hair

i felt like i was stuck
in a recurring nightmare
but you feel some kind of glory
and it punishes me through your stare

what is it you receive
some kind of buzz?
because for me,
i don't want to breathe

the pain slowly wraps around
waiting for my grief to slow
it feasts upon my breakdown
and pierces through the flow

my eyes are still puffy from last night
the pain still trickles through my soul
somehow i have won this fight
and gaining some control

yes, you damaged me badly
i think you know it's true
so i'll showcase my growth gladly
and you'll stay stuck, just like glue

you, me, everyone
getting under my skin
can't even keep it in
so i won't

your voice grates on me
like everyone's pet peeve
nails on the chalkboard
& now i've unlocked rage which has been stored

i'll be slumped in the hard wooden chair
clicking and slapping the keyboard
kissing goodbye to my ability to care
and waiting for you all to change the **** record