The moon left me a note last night,
Tucked in a cloud, soft and white.
It whispered, “Why rush through the sky?
Even stars take their time to shine.”

"what will they think?"- the
thought i had the most in my
entire existence.

I sharpen my knife
I am waiting for the day
I will finally take your life away
Spineless
Spewing your generic brand of hate
You leave a toxic wreckage
With every breath you take
Your death will be my blessing
The perfect gift for all you invade
Your existence is worthless
Your the world's excuse for insane

The petals are plucked,
The seeds are dry,
the earth is ******,
and
I am a weapon with peace to find.

am I a grave?
Merely a passive shrug to life's incessant rave

God truly I am withered!
While I am to console others petals that fall

Is my happiness a smiling face?
It is the momentary death I taste?
When I scar my leaves
While my hopelessness I tease.