Here lies X,
Presumptuous isn't it?
A little bit of pomp in lieu of starting a poem
Written for everyone to see;
Nonetheless, here I lie.

This isn't a suicide note
I'm not dying tonight
This is a desire note

A desire to see the man I am die.
This isn't a pity party,
This isn't a threat to me, and please don't worry

This is religious.
I won't claim it as any other.
I wish to see me die.

Me
The "man" who sees a cross
And looks away
For fear of changing what I'm doing
Because, honestly, it makes me feel good.

I look to a crucifix on Sunday
Believe in Transubstantiation
But I still can't get enough of women fornicating on the web.

It hurts to write this down
But to those of you who read it,
I want you to know
I'm drowning

This is struggle.
Day-to-day
Hour-to-Hour
I don't want this
But everything earthly about me does

There needs to be a look
Outside of self
But I'm happy in this cottage
I need to get out
It's burning down
But the fire is what's keeping me warm

I'm not trying to play
Like I'm really ok,
Because fact of the matter:
I'm not

The absolute worst part:
I've said this a million times.
A million and one.