I'm sampling all sorts of
tears to see which
tragedy suits me best.
Misery is good for art.
My stomach is churning and I keep
asking myself over and over
why why why why why
didn't I take the risk
when I was already on a burning bridge.

I am afraid of
my own voice when
my thoughts are the loudest.
Some people find
release
when they break
things. I'm throwing
my self esteem against
a brick wall
and the only cracks I can
find are in
myself.