my skin tingles like
it's trying to abandon the body
that was wired wrong

my feet itch like
if they could run away from me
they'd go to you hoping to be enough

and my chest hurts from
the heartache of not loving you

it's odd that
words from someone long dead
in a language not my own
can make me feel
like i might be
worth
it

don't you recall what happened
when you burned me to the ground?

and don't you remember that
ghosts are all the more dangerous
because they're already gone?

waking up
is just as hard as
holding the sky

the skin that should be on my wrist
is under my fingernails
and the burn that was in my head
is now in my blood

i can't tell the difference between
my blood and my tears
because they are both red

days drag like centuries
while months pass like seconds
(inhale september, exhale july)

everything is bland, tasteless
save for the metallic tang
of the poison in my veins

sunrise and sunset look
exactly the same........................

(i don't care anymore)




i think i'm at the point where
i'd rather die than dream