i wonder if my suicide attempt did in fact **** me
and this is hell.
with each one, it seems to get worse.

time always moves backwards and then suddenly it’s forward.
i live in my memories. flashbacks. nightmares.
nightmares if i sleep at all.
and when i don’t, the friends behind my ear
keep me company.
the roommates in my head drown me
and blur my vision.
i feel red in my eyes when i get this way.
the stars fall like the burning fireballs they are
and the screams are unbearable
and the cries are aching
and my heart is being pulled out of my chest
like flowers off its root.
when i’m this way, i’d rather die.

parties isolate me.
loneliness swallows me in screaming and begging.
how did i get this way?
i don’t want it.
take it from me.
maybe then i’ll be able to live happy.