It started like an itch inside my mind, but i couldn’t
just scratch it with my bare hands
so it came in the back of my head
how mad i get sometimes and
how incredibly angry i get sometimes
with myself
with this diseased mind of mine
and these bare limbs
just floating around in the air
stuck in myself
a walking scarred tissue
so i made that first great entrance
to welcome the blood flowing out
and waiting for that time
that never happens
should i stand a little more?
should I enter a bit deeper?
“hello, I’m an old friend, I’m a guest and I’m a host
of yours
so please welcome this person of mine
to be out of these lands forever.”
Maybe i could say that and
something would happen
but i could just make some eleven more openings
and watch myself bleeding
the very welcome
way out
that I think I
deserve.
Do i?
I’m not quite sure
but somehow i’ll discover
hopefully before they open this door
and find me drowned in my
own poisoned blood
just to see the light that
i've been told my whole life
and that never occurred to appear
for decades
and all i could do was wait
but now i'm running out of time.