Sticking my finger down my throat,
I swallowed an entire bottle of them.
I realize life is worth living.
I don't want to ******* die.
I just need to ***** and I'll be better.
They've already been absorbed, I'm *******.
I don't want to go to the hospital.
Where's my ******* phone?  It's just three numbers.
I can feel my heart rate slowing down
Get excited, raise that blood pressure.
and my extremities are going numb.
They're just cold, rub them a lot.
Back to the wall, *** on the ground, unmoving.
Get up!  Dance!  Punch something!  Anything!
The darkness takes me and I have one last thought:
*I only thought I wanted to die, I swear.

sister and brother are weeping blood
all over the world;
And I stand by
doing nothing

I think it's sad when I do something just to say it's done. When I can't find the passion I had in your everyday words. I can't tell you I've made a mistake,  I decided to talk that day what a shame. I don't want to write so anyone can read, I want to write hoping someone will actually hear.

I want... I need so desperately for someone to hear.

I've made a mistake , but I can't turn back and I can't change it. I can't fix any of this. I want to be better I want for change , I want for simple.i want to go to sleep hoping I wake up not from my dreams,But into a reality that brings more for my humanity. I want to live. I want to be alive again. I'm tired of trying I've went back to the lie again.  Not a thing has changed and nothing ever will.

sweet torture
and heavy laden
I cannot hold
anymore flowers

Antarctic stares from Arizona eyes; white knuckles, heavy blue pores.
No, nothing changed you anymore.
Rapid touches to the abdomen, the sound of violins breathed in your mind
and he's not usually like this, you said, "He's actually really kind."

What didn't **** you, left you broken.
And you had misspoken, as your words slurred into tears that never fell,
after a fifth of alcohol and half a night of hell,
as you revealed that you thought without him you were nothing at all.
You whispered this
while I cried to you for the last time through a cellular call,
through an invisible, static, insurmountable wall.  
And I disagreed because I had seen it all:
heavy blues and brave bloodshot brown eyes,
"Please don't, I think there's more to you than you realize."

to sit on the grass is to sit with love-
love of grass because its grass-
and because its green-
and because its free-
and because its very existence is a confirmation of love

when the war is long over
apart from the obvious
children suffer their
parents false view of normal
like children really don't matter
forgotten generations of horror
and its all their fault for being born
in a time of no war