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Nov 2014
because i eat my words like a hearty meal
and ***** them out when no one is watching
i cut myself open because i want someone to
sew me back together, i don't care how haphazard the
stitching is as long as they make me alright

because i listen to the analog clock tick away the seconds
of my life, it kills me, you **** me, i **** me, for i am analogous to
wasted times and wasted lives, and potential being wasted on
the easier things, and being wasted

because i can't tell if the scratches on the wall are mine or
the demons trying to break through, burn themselves into
my skin, though they might have been there for a long time
i tried to get better, but better doesn't come for some

because the sweet-tasting wind blows and flowers grow on others but
tornadoes twist and i stay alone, a decomposing forest i call home
slivers of a silver soul, drowned and drowning gold in chrome

because i unravel like the strings
that hold together all of my things
i want someone to sew me back together, i
don't care how haphazard the
stitching is as long as
they
make me alright
twelve caesuras
Written by
twelve caesuras  suicide notes, love poems
(suicide notes, love poems)   
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