the sounds of my frustration
are practically palpable

I can feel the hate
I have for myself

my breathes short
my hands twitching

I seep anger
and weep shame

there is nowhere to turn
except inside

the same place I’m running from
the same thing that’s hunting me even now

I can’t write any more
I have become an external

I’m worried
I’m… scared

there I said it
I am scared

I am terrified
I am justified

I am fleeing from myself
and I know there’s no use

somebody,
please forgive me

I don’t deserve this
whatever I did,
it’s not equal to self-destruction
of the black hole
I created in
myself