My fingers itch
My mind hurts
My heart is heavy.
I write poems to
Understand
And so others can understand
Me.
My bed is messy
My floor is littered
With clothes I never pick up
My walls have art
Taped on them
I hate them when theyre bare.
I feel like I am bare
Raw
Stripped of everything that made me me
And left a shredded shell.
I can't breathe
I can't think
I can't live.