I want to leave this life and
Lose myself in these poems that tell my story better than I ever could.
I want to **** myself and
Sprinkle the ashes between the pages,
Put them in the paper and have those words
Printed on my bones.
I never want to lose these feelings.
Out there it’s cold,
and even the people you love can
make you mad or sad.
Inside this cracked spine
my fears are laid bare;
Everything I hate about myself,
Everything I hide about myself.
If I could never tell the truth,
breathe these poems and let them say it for me,
I would be happy
to no longer exist.