I don’t want flowers; they do nothing

but blacken and deteriorate and remind me

of my insides and everything they lack.

I want support, comfort, reconciliation,

and false reassurance that will

make me believe (even for a second)

that I’m not actually deranged,

unstable, and hopeless.

Lie to me. Tell me I’m sane, tell me

I’m worth it, and tell me I can bounce back

from this mood I seem to have been

stuck in since the beginning of my time.

Make me feel like the weight of the world

might be less heavy when you’re near

because you might want to carry

some of it with me.