what have i to do with these grips,
these squared, white knuckles
holding tight to handle bars?
what have i to do with these empty stares,
eyes void of truth?

these "fill-in-the-bubble, A B or C, music only reaches the ears" types of humans
attempting to tell me how to carry out my existence,
attempting to tell me the most efficient
practical
mindless ways to die?
attempting
to tell me
to show me
the most rewarding ways
to die.

what have i to do with these sculptors
who try and quantify the rain,
who try and evaporate
the sun?
what have i to do with these ideas of perfection, of what is best?
these assumptions of false fulfillment,
these preludes to orderly, institutionalized chaos
and contempt?
what have i to do with all of these cardboard boxes
which cannot differentiate between being filled
empty
open
closed
soft
rough
dry
loved?
what have i to do with those who cannot detect their own storms,
their own energy waiting to explode?
what have i to do with one shade of blue?
what have i to do with feet that cannot move,
knees that cannot bend?
what have i to do with white houses
black cars
trimmed bushes
a front porch?
what have i to do with stationary?
what have i to do with these wings
unless they are free to flutter?
what have i to do with structure
with corners
with average
with plain?
what have i to do with boredom
with settling
with insignificant breath?

what have i to do with waste?
what
have i
to do
with waste.

Starve.

I've filled your hunger once before,

But no
Not any more

Starve.

Till your heart runs dry
Out of *love

Out of glee

Out of me...

I* wept,
till my eyes were dry,
and I could feel no more.

In a statment of ,
complete numbness,
I layed in bed,
in hours,
for days,
s a d.

I wiped,
away the tears.
And my feelings ,
wouldn't stop ,
reminding me.
And those memories,
wouldn't stop,
chasing me.
And I couldn't just,
let go.

You've broken my heart,

You've made me cry,

I should be bitter (Shouldn't I?)

But I'm still alive,

And I've realized,

You'll never be less,

In my eyes.



When you ask,

Why you're still alive,

I'll answer with,

"Because you shouldn't die"



You'll change your ways,

But not for long,

I'll ask you why,

and you'll ramble on,

about how you feel,

and with a tear in my eye,

I'll say,

"Enough! Please!

Don't make me cry!"



You'll try to change,

Yet once again,

But you'll grab that bin,

Wanting to be thin,

You'll cry out,

Ana wins.



I'll come back,

I won't give up hope,

I know somehow,

Maybe, you'll cope,

Maybe, someday, you'll make it through,

Because I can't, without you.



I know you still have it,

That urge,

To grab the blade,

I know it's a feeling,

You'll never evade.



But if I could tell you one thing,

Dear,

It would be,

Do not fear.

The Lord will help you,

And so will I,

So do not cry,

Dry your eyes.