i want to mean fucking something to someone
every bite is harder to chew
and my heart is on my plate.
i’ve given up on every action except
for love. i want to die, and it’s apparent
that my parents don’t love me the way they used to.
my mother never worries anymore
when i pull out my teeth,
and growing old is just like my childhood; i never
want it to end. the days are getting darker
and my view on life is following suit.
tell me i’m something and make it rhyme
with a reason because i can’t fucking think
about anything other than my own inability
to speak what i mean and this instability is eating away
like monsters under the bed and halloween
when all i want is to be held. call it a night when i end it,
this life is so close to being over.
who do i even try to impress with my writing?
i’m looking backwards
on broken stones wondering
“why did i throw you?”