I wrote a poem about Ritalin
Though I've never tried it

I wrote a poem about my bed
Turning into an island
About my floor melting into sea water
And my ceiling light
Turning into the sun

I wrote a poem about a cigarette
All the best poets smoke
Death in itself is poetic

I wrote a poem about *****
It has been two years since I've felt
The familiar feel
Of bile climb up my throat
And meet my toilet bowl

I wrote a poem about voodoo dolls
And how the pins
Push through fabric
And how I wish it was flesh

I wrote a poem about cramps
I can physically feel my ****** tearing
Its way out of my body
With each contraction
I mark another tally on the chalkboard

I wrote a poem about bullets
Opening skin
Unzipping foreheads

I wrote a poem about teeth
Teeth falling out
Teeth growing in
Teeth twisting in gums

I wrote a poem about pain
And how my tolerance is so high
I've died seven times
And hardly noticed

I wrote a poem about blood
They say blood holds bad spirits
And I want to let them free
Please let them free

I wrote a poem about death
As cliche as it sounds
Everyone tells me to stop
Stop talking
Stop writing
My fascination with the end
Isn't healthy

I wrote a poem hospitals
Filled with diseases
Worse than my own
I feel the guilt clawing at my stomach
I feel the spirits thrash

I wrote a poem about nothing
Because thats all I am