my fucking thoughts

die

 

lie

 

or cry trying

 

it’s quite unbearable

 

knowing that your days are numbered

 

yet

 

not the ones where your body remains present

 

but where your soul prays for it’s life

 

to become stable

 

 

would it have been better if she texted back

 

could it have been possible

 

for you to not have fumbled

 

that relationship

 

 

of course not

 

you silly cunt

 

you over analyzed the situation

 

and now you pay letters to your heart

 

 

reading them wouldn’t be delightful

 

as they have been blasted through your brain

 

punted

 

like a ball

 

containing your thoughts

 

of loneliness

 

and curiously

 

anger

 

 

did she really do something to make you this mad

 

or did you expect this from the beginning

 

 

this is where i lied

 

i made myself believe

 

things that were fake

 

and i delivered

 

upon those false realities

 

 

next time should be better

 

at least i hope

 

i’ll make sure of it

 

that i am the best of me

 

 

this is what got me into this situation

 

the mask that i have broken

 

pieced back together

 

and provided my heart

 

with documentation

 

to fuck me over

 

 

i should’ve learned

 

from this promising fable

 

where a rat gets too confident

 

gazing

 

upon a block of cheese

 

 

you could imagine the rest

 

as we shouldn’t talk about murder

 

at the dinner table

 

 

they say that i shouldn’t swear

 

that it’s bad for my conscious

 

garbage in garbage out they say

 

but i wish to tear down that fucking wall

 

 

i’m fucking sad

 

and i deserve to launch this poetic rhythm

 

into those who have the gall

 

to tell me to put the notebook

 

down

 

 

after i’m finished collecting my thoughts

 

let me forget about these people

 

who desire to leave me out of their messages

 

and

 

let me dine at the hall of demons

 

talk to my successors

 

and finally understand how to finish this life

 

before it rots away

 

 

because it would be so easy

 

to let dad be right

 

just one last time

 

 

to rot away in a ditch

 

splitting college

 

getting calcium from the drain

 

like a fucking snitch

 

 

it isn’t what i desire

 

but dad isn’t ever wrong is he

 

 

or

 

i can wash this filth off of me

 

just scrub away the pain

 

look in the mirror

 

look at those marks

 

the stretching of the skin

 

and the bulk of muscle

 

they call it gainz

 

 

i could dedicate myself to this path

 

as i proved in my reflection

 

that i could

 

 

i could win over the world

 

quit handing out brown bags

 

perhaps i should

 

 

the destination will never be known

 

yet i believe

 

that i have hurled myself

 

towards it

 

in a way

 

not yet comparable

 

to those around me

 

 

once i land

 

i’ll pop the head off of my neck

 

as i’m not the one here

 

meant for greatness

 

 

that would be my soul

 

distanced from this body

 

maybe a few down the line

 

perhaps i lose the will to continue

 

on the trek

 

and begin to soak the sun

 

this stop

 

wouldn’t take but a few centuries

 

 

smelling the roses wouldn’t be frowned upon

 

as i could rendezvous

 

with the bees

 

 

yet eventually

 

i would find my way

 

 

watch the sun explode

 

as i drown in regret

 

but what the fuck is wrong

 

i have made it

 

everything i have fantasized about

 

had been achieved

 

yet it would all be thrown away

 

for the mask

 

that i had once worn

 

was never broken

 

 

so i would regress to the current me

 

just to live this life

 

once again.