I don't have the right words
because I am absolutely exhausted
without me even realizing
in the past few weeks my depression has really taken a toll on me
everything feels more difficult
overwhelming
defeating
I realized I haven't really felt happy happy in weeks
I've just kind of looked forward to times where I have no responsibility because anything important is debilitating
people always seem to think you're unhappy because you miss someone or your just inconvienced
that once the weekend comes it will all be better again
when someone says something like that
I know they have never ever felt like I do right now
like my brain is clawing itself up in a war of conflicting feelings and thoughts
wanting happiness and feeling strictly prohibited

you’re a sick, sick person
my little,
                old
love.

with eyes like ferocious , angry
beetles, you
chew into me and cut out
tiny,
        stinging
                       holes.

if only you knew i wasn’t invincible,
if only you knew
                              you were toxic.

the cement is wet when you bash my head
open,
and
the cement is still wet when it
rains.

oval bubbles
distortion forestalled
just a little longer than
normalcy systems

and I'll system you
into the blue of one
thousand thousand seas beyond
my good graces

drain azure ichor from
gods long gone
from all we wanted
when we were young

yonder 'round Neptune
lies death in the void
of wisp-words whipped
through teeth like tears in the universe

you make me so sick

you make me death wish
and doom dance in several shades
darker than recommended--
wind in ethereal ears bled dry

would to the one
thousand thousand gods
you waste into worlds of dust
drawn from dark corners of

alternate universal commandments broken beyond recompense

Give me a screen
A blank document
A field of snow

I will not be afraid

I would trample my footprints
Leave my mark

I would not be afraid.
Not today.

Because today, I am as empty
As the text box
As the screen

And it would be a relief
To see a mark
Visible
And left by my hand

My nose is runny
God knows which illness it’s from
My head is hurting
I don’t know how it’s still on
I am still aching
After all the breaking that was done
I am still burning
Oh how the table’s turning

No one had a part in this self rightous suicide
Everyone was afraid of what would be my homicide
It isn’t okay to do
It is terrible if you continue to refuse to conform
You can’t make yourself happy
Just calm down and let us make the rules

My nose is runny
God knows which illness it’s from
My death is coming
It sure knows how to haunt
I am still lying
That I am alright
I am still crying
That they already got a bite

Now I am running
God knows where I am really from
My end is coming
Who Knows if it’s the real one?
I am still dying
But I know how to hide
From the ones who are in control
Who make everything so dull

hate to *****.
can’t stand the protest
of an upset stomach, the heave
of bile and undigested food,
the carve of acid in the esophagus.
okay, i don’t like that part much myself.
but i do like the cool porcelain on
my face, the solid of tile beneath
my ****. most of all, i like my belly
emptied, even temporarily,
of food.
of fat.
of pain.

my skin is hot. fevered. demanding
to be soothed. touched. satisfied.

have i gone crazy? i have never, ever
done such a thing. never unlocked
this private room inside of me. never
ever wanted to take a look inside.

am i possessed? entered by a demon,
chained and padlocked, inside of myself?
i feel possessed, taken by some evil,
sick desire. desire i can’t control.

what is wrong with me? i don’t want
this. oh god. it can’t feel good.

but it does.
it does.
does.