I went to my last counseling appointment today
and when i stood up to leave
I felt as if I should shake her hand

but instead I walked out that door on tentative fawn legs
I stepped into the cold
and I felt like a stranger to myself

I bought coffee and a pack of cigarettes
and stood by the same ledge I always do
but it didn’t feel the same

I have her card in my front pocket for emergencies only
I feel as if I just stepped into harsh burning sunlight
I feel like there is winter air trapped in my lungs

I've come to the conclusion that
there’s nothing really wrong with me
but there’s nothing all that right either

I write poems to remember you, and you snort ******* to forget about me. We all find solace in different things.

I think I'm coming down
with the spring sillies
My dafty thoughts are feverish,
budding, blossoming,
Impulsive, daffodilly

My thigh muscles are stronger
And start to twitch,
As if they now prepare
To bound and leap in meadows
Like the mad march hare.

A cheeky imp is glinting
In my left eyeball
Calling me to frolic
With the April fool

There's happy hope in spring growth
Nature's clever ploy
And I'll not let any April showers
Dampen down my joy!

I am a beacon
For chaos and disorder.
Tempests and storms
Seem to gravitate towards me
And lost souls
Treading solemn paths
Always manage to find themselves
In my company
Ruin and carnage surround me,
Shattered parts of abandoned dreams
And the wreckage of sorrow
All head towards my light.
I do not want to be a beacon
I do not want to bring hurricanes
Into the lives of people I love
But this chaos, this waste,
Clings closer to me
Than my shadow.

I have one last request. **** me.
Help me run away. Anything.
I sit here in agonizing pain as
I press my frozen fingertips
Into my burning eyes,
Trying,
Fighting,
Murdering every tear that threatens to escape.
I feel chilled across every expanse of my skin and
I wait for the end that I have wanted for so long.