Make a list
Make a list of the things you are
Grateful for
Grateful that death is close
Grateful that I will die soon
Grateful that-
Those aren’t the things I was supposed to write
But
They did ask
Make a list they said
So I made my little edgy list
My angsty, teenage, ******* list
My depression my anxiety
Wound into
A list

Make a list
Of what you’re grateful for
And everyday
Remind yourself
There’s a reason to live

I think I did the assignment incorrectly
But I did make a list

I feel my body is not real
It’s like a picture or an abstract painting
The picture
Is not the place
Only an impression of it
The painting looks complete
From far away
But up close
it reveals itself to be only splotches of texture and many dots of color

My body is not real
Or if it is
I am only paint on canvas

Why is it always rap?
Well sometimes it’s psychedelic
But at parties I mean
I like smoke filled rooms
Where I know
Everyone’s high
And I can join them unabashed
The room soon faded out
All that’s left
Is the dimmer lights
Maybe a face to make out with
Smoke
Some bare walls walking on stilts
I’m
the highest in the room

I don’t think I’m worth the amount of effort it takes for someone to love me
I could never be enough as I am for what I cost to purchase
I start every sentence with ’ I ‘
And I end them all in ‘yes’
I have no boundaries
No sense of self
Just open thighs and a mouth
Still I am just as much without
Without love
Without care
Without anyone.

Purchase the girl!
She’s almost as good as free!
Purchase that girl!
Over and over and over
She’ll let you in

over and over and over
Again.

I don’t know if I’m real
I think I could drive away and no one would give a ****
Maybe I’m no longer writing poetry
It’s all just blatant confession
I wish I could find something worthwhile

It’s all just a mess

Breaking her into pieces
Wondering how it happened
Knowing in my head -
I ignored all the signs.

Killing my brain with substances
She supplied more
Killing my time
She was the glass I poured from

Breaking her into pieces
Cremating the bones of our relationship
Knowing in my heart-
She cared far more than I could manage.

I am now standing here
Solitary.
Breaking her

All over the floor.

If I was a corpse
Do you think you would see me differently
Would my cold eyes suddenly become a more haunting shade of blue?
Would my misery and pain be more apparent
Or would it disappear in the fondness of nostalgia ?
If I was a corpse
I think I could get you
Just where I want you
Maybe you could love me
If I was cold and dead
Even if
It’s only memories