I can't do this anymore.
What kind of life is this?

I'm a secret.
A ***** disgusting
Pointless secret.

Who cares if I whisper this mess
In their ear.
To cup my hands 'round the side of their face
And expose myself to them.

No one wants to hear about the hamster wheel spinning round and round in my head.
The tap tap tap of anxious could be's and angry could have been's.
Disappointment chain smokes out my arteries and throws the simmering cigarette butts into the pit of my stomach.
Hoping to start a flame.
To burn me up.
Inside out.

That's not a pretty story.
Not a fairy tale.
People want happy poems or depressing fables.
Ones that they don't have to look in the eyes afterward.

I have no interest in sharing doubts that gnaw away at my fingertips or the fears that grind my teeth.

Everything is fine
Is fine
Just
Like
This.
Just leave it.
Leave it alone.

It will go away
Or it will **** me yet.