quite some time ago
i wrote and wrote and wrote
it's the only way i'd let the true ache show
i let it spill vapidly across the page
releasing my teenage demons from their cage

i stopped caring for words when the drugs took over
the daily project to not be sober
no more worries and riddled with lies
like ophelia drowning obliviously
no longer caring what lives and who dies

now ten years later, let's try this again
back to my soul, find out who i am
maybe i still exist
somewhere deep down
a sliver, a sparkle, or gleam
maybe just some whisper of sound

this is my journey
to write my life into new
scribble out this disease
and abandon it too
after all, i'm everything my life can be
my world can't exist if there is no me

it's simple, really:
don't worry about what is ******
then, and only then, will you not self-destruct