pressure point
after i'm gone no one will care to read this
a haphazard attempt to accrue notability through incontinence
you'll be sharing thoughts with yourself in your old age
the only latent requirement is the sense of porcelain skin on mine
finite space becomes infinite upon closer inspection, considerably
so does the soul hope to recurse into itself to broaden hope
yet i have managed to find a wall instead, luckless me
a breaking point on the edge of my soul
years before it protected my energy from intrusion
now it taxes free thought and hampers exploration
where are my curves, have they forgotten to allot them?
i see happiness contained in my sibling's eyes, and i hate them for it
my parents couldn't be more content, and it hurts me deeply
attempts at understanding my rage are worthless gestures
the only fix is to stop the loneliness, either by
adding one to your number or taking one away. i need you!
doing more than slowly killing me, this is far, far worse
the black shadow of myself grows upon each incident
(how are these thoughts possible with no outward shame)
if unchecked, i'll have to remove myself, if only to save them from
the me that i've already begun to change into
unbalanced and unnoticed, none of them even care to glance
softer and caring but at a terrible price
will you ever feel confident enough to make your leap of faith?
how could these snakes be allowed to crawl over me?
i'm covered in blood regret from sallow head to toe. help.
