You know that voice inside your head,
That whispering ***** that wants you dead,
A hell grip tease, knows every fault,
That sly little snitch that you can’t halt.
A slick negotiate this voice of yours,
Knows the Band-Aid tricks that you adore,
Rough ***, play drugs, drink all day,
Says **** yourself, you’re a throw-a-way.
So listen crisp, you’ve got an outside chance,
****-can the guilt and the worry romance,
Stoke this moment, jive the second you’re in,
Don’t end your life, let the ****** begin.
It’s a hollow *** world, we all wearing shells,
Hard knocks, beat downs, sad farewells,
So write your ****, make your memories scream,
Claim your poem, tip type the bad dreams.
We can’t make it easy but we can hear,
A community listens, maybe offer a tear,
It’s a bruise harsh life, so take this hand,
Black and white your ****, no reprimand.
Encourage those you know who want to **** themselves to write. Pain has a source-- once you find the pulse of it you can calm it-- at least for awhile--- only art can save us.
