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austin-heathPoems
Prince of stolen goods come to take over the nation that spat in his face. We are losing all our ground an marbles; we are not going to be okay, things will not be fine. Mother is in a women's shelter, losing weight and begging for money weekly from her deadbeat son who is now broke. King of hearts take away the sleeping sensation oozing up from my toes to the center of epicenter of thoughts that shake my body like earthquakes of palsy or a stroke made up of every pond or puddle you pass up couldn't hold all the tears I haven't cried. Sister can you hear me now, I'm not exactly trying anymore I'm silent with syllables and loud with my pauses. I'm not going to make it, and I can't turn around. I'm fragile and delicate and some would say I'm flat-out weak. I want you to put flowers on my grave instead of sleeping somewhere next to me, six feet under, or sleeping in wondering what went wrong. This **** isn't your fault. Put a sword or some sharp object to **** away the idea that I'm going to use to destroy whatever is left of myself. **** me, to **** me before I **** me. Steal everything. **** anything.
0
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC
"Thieves in an Orange Sunlight."
Prince of stolen goods come to take over the nation that spat in his face. We are losing all our ground an marbles; we are not going to be okay, things will not be fine. Mother is in a women's shelter, losing weight and begging for money weekly from her deadbeat son who is now broke. King of hearts take away the sleeping sensation oozing up from my toes to the center of epicenter of thoughts that shake my body like earthquakes of palsy or a stroke made up of every pond or puddle you pass up couldn't hold all the tears I haven't cried. Sister can you hear me now, I'm not exactly trying anymore I'm silent with syllables and loud with my pauses. I'm not going to make it, and I can't turn around. I'm fragile and delicate and some would say I'm flat-out weak. I want you to put flowers on my grave instead of sleeping somewhere next to me, six feet under, or sleeping in wondering what went wrong. This **** isn't your fault. Put a sword or some sharp object to **** away the idea that I'm going to use to destroy whatever is left of myself. **** me, to **** me before I **** me. Steal everything. **** anything.
#suicide#life#hatespeech
austin-heath
Written by
austin-heath
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC
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