Oh darling.
Oh darling!
Help knot this noose.
Spill out the contractors spindled spew.

My leash is as tethered as my thoughts.
Kick the stool angled foot
Remove tension,
don't slack.

I've decided I just don't want to keep my thoughts inside.
They aren't always sane,
but have tendencies to seek the "in."

My departure welcomes the cold and bitter.
As the winter.
To which the tree holds the sight of.
Chlorophyll picked away from leaves
to fulfill a coming life.
I will restore the color back in the splintered rings held inside.

This withered branch; my neck.
Ready to untwine
From burdening weight balanced on my spine.
SNAP!

Fingers snap to my fall.
4 counts per measure
Each conducted with quietus posture.
A contortionist to the meaning of nurture.

Oh you
Oh darling
Oh me, oh my.
Hanging from this tree oh why says I.

Do I have to die?
Oh right,
NO! Wrong let's lie in light.

That tree giving color,
given hope.
Painted again by my deaths brush stroke.

What I thought would be so warm and welcoming...
Is only what I had before...
Nothing.

So I looked at my mother and asked her "I'm sorry but what do you speak?"

With a stern look in her face she said  "Your nothing to me William, you're only a disgrace."

But mother? WAIT! Mother!
Are my words special or is my self, a son special?

No son you're not special.
Your words mean bleak...
You simple minded fool.
Hate is all you seek.

Oh how cruel,
Your words spill with the old.
Repeated system of vocabulary directed at my point.
That point, a heart, one desperate, one in need.
Of a caring mother who may see something special in me.
Well mother I can write.
I can write your worries.
And hold them tight like your once told bed time stories.
But these new story's that cut so deep,
Hold demons and monsters  suffocating my heart beat.
Flip the switch you caretaker.
Press delete.
Erase me from your whittled life,
To one not carved to include me.

I'm the forever bête noire,
    plagiarizing the plague rising cellar door.

That intoxicating, suffocating, chemical spitting, death pursuing, white stick.

Pressing death on my forever gasping lungs.

Inhale:Addict,
            Inhale:Addict,
                   Inhale:Addict,
                              Inhale:Addicted.

This stair step downward towards hell in my lungs.
Please,
oh god please let me exit when I realize this mistake,
let me crawl up these steps with my everlasting,
hesitated,
chemical tainted breath.

With every breath I take,
a ghostly hand conjuring from the wisps of fading smoke,
choking my lungs.

My body no longer paradise but an ash tray,
each ash, a day stripped away by my own consistency to smoke,
this **** POOR EXCUSE OF A  COMFORT.
A JUVENILE DECISION THAT WILL CAUSE NIGHTMARES FOR ME,
A ******* DECAYING WALKING GRAVE!

I'm getting out of {second}hand...
I need to calm down...
I need...
A cigarette...

A.  I hate your colorfulness

            

          B.  I just want neutral, colorless.