i try to block out the noise
with more noise,
and yet I am still drowning in it all.
i am sinking, and god,
somebody please help me
(i am finally reaching, and still there is no one grasping my wrist and pulling me out)
i am ready to be told that
i am  w o r t h y
of so much more
than the sadness that wraps it's claws
around the base of my neck, tugging.
dragging me down, down, down
“ i am ready ”
the words are uttered into the dark of my room when the thoughts turn ****** and red.
“ i am ready ”
and my heart beats a violent rhythm to these words and
i am ready, so please, if You are out there,
send help.

I AM READY ( to be more ).

if you search through the rubble,
you'll still find fragments of me
tainted by thoughts of you.

and i wonder when they'll realise
that there is a reason why
i am always three threads shy
from falling apart.

and i try, i try
to take in the aesthetic of life,
but i cannot see past the
parts tainted by the
filthy hands of society.

so tell me again
how this ends,
is it with your knife through my chest
or your gun to my head ?

there is beauty in a storm
(i promise to keep you warm).
darling, there is beauty in death
what are you so scared of ?

and i remember
how your eyes were so much
like stars;
all burnt out hope,
and dead-beat dreams.