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the pain of tonight will not be as loud as a river breaking dams as before.

it is ice, tonight, knowing i have ruined myself.

i stole this poem from time, absolutely had to

write it and let

the deadness live on this page and not in

my skin.

i cannot start this again, fucking someone i dont love.

i am sick with the thought of what is to come

so many drugs and me

happily on e

ignoring the poems called oh my god,

the most painful of them all.

tonight, after everyone else has gone to sleep,

i cannot handle the complete devastation

i feel by myself.

my insides are palistine in the most recent bombings,

suicide, smoke, and debris.

There is no one to translate my pain to and escape to,

first love is all over now and there is only me.

I am afraid of the ice here I am reaching for anything.

tonight i am sick regurgitating

the counterfeit words...



i have no idea what i am doing.

only that my body is shattering with want

I HATE THIS POEM. I HATE THIS POEM.

I HATE THIS POEM AND I HATE MYSELF I AM SO SAD I

COULD WALK FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH NO SHOES AND NEVER STOP

I WANT TO BE A BUM TO BE NO ONE ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

WHY CAN'T I BE SIMPLE AND WISH I WAS DEAD

WISH I WAS DEAD WISH I

WAS DEAD WISH.

i just can't explain how sad i feel.