I want to write.
A poem.
To write.
I want to puke.
Words.
To puke.
I want to ****.
Naught.
To ****.

I want days and nights and bewildering sights.
I want cries and smiles and slumbering sighs.

Why don't you die?
What is death but an overbearing lie.
Why don't you go?

Not like it ever ... ends.