tw

sorry, i am running out of ribs to break
and this sorrow has grown stems and branches;
soon, they will dig their way in,
handing me flowers for a funeral.

some nights, it is a switchblade
digging deeper into my wounds —
other nights, it is an act of kindness.

some nights, my lips refuse to read aloud
the epitaphs carved in my headboard.
other nights, i recite them like poems
worth laying at a forest's doorstep —
in a worn-out dress and
with mud in my skin.
from the dark,
i cannot tell whether the offering
is this poem or me.

sorry, i am running out of ribs to break
and this sorrow has grown roots
in the gaps where all my bones used to rest —
and there is no way out of these woods
when your heart has long hanged itself —
when your feet are sinking quicker
than they move.

and soon, you'll find that the butterflies in my stomach
had been nipping on these funeral flowers —
nipping for so long on my flesh —
inside out.

sorry, i am running out of ribs to break
and this chest has become a wide-open mass graveyard.

here, their weary bodies lie —
the girls made of blackened bones and dystopia.
the girls who don't survive themselves.
here, their weary bodies lie.

here — where my weary body lies.

Everything Has Been ******* Up,
Our Mother Nature Is Dying,
Human Not Being Responsible,
Animals Become Victims,
Humans Become Heartless,
Global Warming Is Killing Mother Nature,
All We Do Is Destroy Mother Nature Without Sympathy,
We Can’t Crying Over Spilt Milk,
What Has Been Happened, Has Been Happened,
In The End, There’s No Human, No Animals, And No Nature,
All I See Is A Human But Not Humanity........

Being alive
Isn’t the same
As living,

And death
Isn’t as terrifying
As dying.