All these emotions,
all these perfect feelings to put on a paper.
But still nothing seems right.

My mental health is like a rubber band.
If you pull it too far, it will get tight.
Until you pull it to hard.

Your silence slices me open
I roll the dice
I want to see tears in your eyes
Instead you just stay quiet
I just wanna reach those
Who have spent their entire life
feeling like they are nobody to anybody
Did you feel the edge of a knife
Pressed to your skin
while your friends
search for their excuses
in their expensive purses
They curve you
Like a teacher who just got laid
Curves your grade
Yeah, I have a lot more words to say
& they say they are pressed for time
Well I’m telling you,
tongues are heavy
because I've held mine
long enough
For the time being
I know I’m not enough
So for now, I'm going to stuff it
and just shut up

She cut onions
As her wrists bled deep
Because the tears only came in her dreams

Counting
Saving
Stashing.

How many will work?

Or! Maybe I can
disassemble
my Pencil Sharpener.

Or better yet,

Knit a long,
Skinny,
Scarf.

Where to hang it though?

Perhaps I could take a
Too Hot
Bath,

And sit till it's cold.

Maybe...
Weigh myself,
Until I'm satisfied

That'd do it too.

I am wandering.
A home does not have me.
I wish I wasn’t homeless.
Which means,
I wish I had a place that I could reside.
For more than a night.
A place that feels right
for me.
Permanently
or at least without worry of
where I’ll be staying next week.
Or even the next day.
It is pure misery.
The waiting and
the not knowing.
Because if we’re speaking honestly,
Being a refugee
is killing me.

I wish my mom cared about me.
I wish she truly understood me.
But alas it is me
Who cares for her being,
Who cares if she eats
and how she’s feeling.
Whether she’s weeping
or screeching
my love comes plenty
or it did until she took and took
and left me empty.

and no one cares about me.

what’s stopping me from disappearing?
I should just grab the sharpest object
closest to me
and get to slashing
and slitting  
and cutting.
I should obliquely
forge my arm
while having a conversation with myself
“Heat the blade”
I would say
“Maybe it won’t sting.”
Yeah and maybe it’ll leave a pretty little line
that’ll remind me that my perception
has always been undoubtedly clogged.

Delete me from this world

I can't live without:
My partner
My bestfriend
It's a short list but it saves me everytime.

Standing on the edge of the bridge.
Breathe, just for the last time.
And jump for the last time.