i woke up and wrote a song
but forgot i couldn’t sing
so i ripped the page from my notebook
and threw it to the birds
they can have the rights and everything.

in class
they asked us
if we were
afraid of the dark

no i'm not afraid
of the dark that
fills my room
at two a.m.

i'm not afraid of the dark
that engulfs
underground caves
or the darkness
submerged deep in
the atlantic ocean

but
i'm afraid of the dark
that seeps through
every fissure
and crevice
of my splintered heart;
the blackness that
cascades through
my veins
and the gloom
that fills my lungs
(with no room
for oxygen.)

yes, i'm afraid
of a certain kind
of darkness:
the kind that can't
be illuminated
by a flashlight

I have no more tears to shed for anyone but myself.
My sadness is mine.
The moment you learn people aren't medicine,
you start getting help from your own two hands.
Nothing feels better than to fall asleep with
the person you know will be there in the morning.