I wish I wasn’t me.
years ago when my sister passed,
I wished it was me.
young and ignorant to the ways of the world.
young yet already wishing to be dead.
I wonder if wanting these thoughts to escape my head
is selfish..
If I believe ‘everything happens for a reason’,
then there has to be a reason.
but the truth is
I really don’t know what I believe in.
if I were to die
I don’t know if my soul would
Sink or Swim
even though
I can’t Swim
and with the world on my shoulders
I’m liable to Sink.

Uncomfortable.
Always moving,
always trying to find
the perfect place.
My Utopia..
Does that that make sense?
Does it exist
in somewhere other than my head?
Is there a world out there
where I don’t end up dead?
A reality where these thoughts
don’t eat away at me like
moths at cloths.
I have ten years worth of holes in me.
Everything I hold in just eats away at me
and I let it.

My Utopia.
What would it be like?
Dark
because that’s where I prefer to be
and quiet
because silence never hurt anybody.
it never hurt me.
a place for me is a place
where I don’t have to hide.
my thoughts
my feelings
my pain.
a place where there’s
always an ear to truly listen.
One that understands without me needing to explain.
If only there was a way I could talk
without my words being swatted down like flies.
I want to not feel alone
for once.
I want to be alone
and not feel alone.
I want to be okay with my own presence.
My own company.
I want My Candle of Loneliness
to be put out before
I am engulfed in the flames.
My Utopia is a place,
a place with no pain.