I seek fulfillment
while I
die
trying to deny
these demons.
People use the phrase
“It’s all in your head”
and
what if it is?
What if it is?
Is that any better?
Inside isn’t a place to hide
it’s a beacon
to our reality
everything we see
is simply reflected from the outside to the in
endlessly.
Unless I end it.
Unless I think of a way
to fend them off.
I can’t
but I will.
All I’ve got left is will
will and that
half filled bottle of pills
but not the ones prescribed
the ones that tie my hands behind my back
and leave me ******* the **** of life for more.
It’s ok
don’t worry
it’s all only
a metaphor.
All except the title
I’d be dead
if not entitled.

I riddle my lies and empty my ties in the river of tears that i’ve cried as i lie in bed in the midst of the night
kissing my fright alight.

Sparks fly
but I can’t end it.
My dog Sparks died
but I pretend he didn’t
As words float around my mind
sounding (a lot like)
schizophrenic.
I end it.