my heart and mind
are lined with barbed wire.

//

the words i speak are coated in thick layers
of faux insults and bitterness.

//

the bruises on my body
are ripe and green,
as if a seed of regret has been planted
within.

//

the universe is knowable of who i am,
but not what i'm capable of.

//

i'd say i prefer
cigarettes to flowers
and alcohol to hot tea,
but the only thing
holding up those lies
is the last shred of my
self-esteem.

//

i'm sick and tired
of being sick and tired.

//

the curtains fall
on this routine
i call a life,
but there is no applause to ease my suffering.

there is no one there
to yell encore
until their throat is sore.

there is no one there
to throw roses at my feet.

//

my heart and mind
are lined with barbed wire.