PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was driving fast on the freeway

When the voice inside my head spoke to me

It said;

I could let go of this steering wheel right now and slam into the barrier.

It felt like it would be so easy,

But I was on my way to see someone who liked me,

Who would soon hate me,

And I didn't want to disappoint.

So I didn't kill myself then.

I want to die.

These are four words that I have been thinking repeatedly over the past few months.

For a fact I know that the world would be a little less annoyed without me in it.

For a fact.

Somehow I make everyone hate me.

If you like me now,

You will hate me soon.

I'll drive you off because,

I only know I'd hurt you more later.

This has made me hate myself.

Because nothing is ever right anymore.

My hands are so tiny.

Teeny, tiny bones inside

If I was as big as the seismosaurus

I'd have huge bones, that could take my beating.

But I'd weigh more then,

So I'd fall harder.