I don't care anymore.
I don't care about the emptiness in my chest,
The way my thoughts echo and squirm,
Burrowing into my brain as it rots its potential away in a moist, warm tomb.
I don't care about the bitter pills I swallow,
Or the noose I've found comfort in these past months,
Alone in a cheap duplex in **** All Missouri,
Waiting for salvation or sleep.
I don't care that if I succeed today and die tonight that no one will care to find my body for weeks,
Alone like I have been the rest of my life until neighbors complain of the smell.
I don't care that I'm running out of money,
Or that all my friends and family have removed me from their lives.
I don't care that even as I lay dying, I have never understood why people choose to live.
And I don't care that this ****** teenage poetry is all I will leave behind.
Ok I know it's bad. But I found a bunch of my old poetry and I actually really liked some of it, and I kinda wanted to get back into writing it. So excuse my warm up poem, I haven't written in like a year and a half.
