I have become angry.
I was sad, and now I am angry.
I have been told you pass through stages of grief
When the one who got away is indifferent
Indifference hurts.
So does anger.
And anger is building inside me like a volcano
Anger is rising to the surface like burnt milk forgotten on a stove
Anger is seeping into my veins because I have been nothing but nice
Nothing but convenient
Yet
You make me feel like I am a bother
A stain on your carpet you cannot wash out
A nail sticking out of the furniture, just a little
Out of place
You make me feel out of place
I am right where I need to be
Right where I belong
You do not get to kick me out because I have become
Inconvenient
I won't accommodate you any longer
I have been nothing but truthful
Honest
Myself
And you do not get to make me feel any less than that.
I will not stoop so low.
I will not bow down.
I am here to stay.
This is my life.

Every vein and exhausted cell in my brain, ankles and lower back- my body bleeds out I hate you.
Like broken record players.

I scream: "I hate you" for making me look like the kind of monsters I would run away from.
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you

I scream louder to punctuate a full stop.
Then my voice finally cracks, perhaps making empty escapes for oxygen to come into my burning lungs.

Broken everywhere and everything.
And behind me, the sunrise was the colour of bad blood.

I am as blue as the apparent veins around wrists,
My life is as colourless as my pale body.
My mind as dark as my pitch black eyes
My soul…I don’t even think I have one anymore,
It’s been stabbed, crushed, broken,
set on fire too.
dismantled like my scared body.
nature reflects the feelings.

Your veins stick out of your arms like needles
They pierce my eyes with tints of blue and green scattered across their lengths
Underneath is purple and red, a color we've all seen too many times
"But it's okay!" I try to say

Yet your veins keep pushing me away

Lines above and under lines form a pathway to your palms
Can my fingers climb that ladder and cling to the warmth of your hand?
"I love you." You say quite bland

Yet your veins keep choking me today

Blue and indigo lines.
Dark as ink.
Drowning in blood with pain.
With the pounding and drum of each heart beat, more pain is released into the system.
Flowing calmly but with intensity and pure passion.
The streams are in a tangled path. Leaving behind a strangled mess.
The throbbing continues with every breath.
Echoing against the very soul of your being.
The blues and purples reach the surface as each new tender bruise is revealed.

Shooting myself with another needle of cutting edge,
my desire for the latest and greatest continues my addiction.
Where's my IV!? I need more electricity.
Without constantly being jacked in and distracted by others,
I’m left with the one thing I can’t bare to endure – myself.
Who needs dreams when exist
virtual realities of dazzling graphical effects,
unreal visuals that I’m actually conscious of.
Screens dispersing artificial radiance bare all,
but blind me from what's real.
Google is my omnipotent god.