I’ve come to terms
with the fact
that who I am
will never please
who I want to be.
And the fact that my life
with never satisfy
my wildest dreams.

Because everyone who knows me
is a bad person
and my only purpose
is to sit here
and rattle of the ways
in which I am worthless.

The skin I am in
is suffocating me
and I can no longer breathe.
I’m dreaming of the sweet release
that I will find in the comfort
of death.

I long for the tight grip
that is constantly held
around my neck
to squeeze so hard
and no longer tease.


I am constantly feeling like I am dying
but I won’t ******* die.