I want to hold a gun to my head
shooting the monster inside
until it's lying there spilling black blood on the ground.

I want to pull the trigger
over and over again
until it's not moving
not breathing
until there's nothing left but silence.

i'm so angry
my face feels pale
empty space no art-
ist wanted to draw in

i want something
to fill this void behind
sharp teeth: vomiting
coffee grinds and blood
over my favorite novel
in a dream where my
glasses are still
broken and there's
always been wet bed
sheets, red is nothing
is smothering

oh, i want.
need pain
love leaving i've
never craved laughter
no one here is looking at me
the eyes of hungry gods are
glued to my skin tearing them
selves apart leaving me leaving me
to cope with one less layer
i think there are devils in
the clouds that haunt me.
oh, i need.

i need a cigarette
somewhere between
home and hell

taste fog water
catch a breath
push everything
down with old
blood coffee
splash water
on my face:

who the **** is that?

Borderline thoughts:
better to self medicate with pasta, than a bullet

My heart is so tired of being in pain,
it tries to stop beating – an effort that’s in vain,
so I am left, once again, barely surviving
instead of feeling alive and truly thriving.

How much easier it would have been
if I had not been born but left unknown and unseen,
for I have known only tragedy and despair
and now I'm broken beyond repair.

Let me be brave* I say as I become the hero I need in my own story,
as I try to save myself from the demons in unknown and dark territory.