would it be better to die silently?

the springs beneath bleed

clotting like cream

carrying the uncertainty

of whether they’ll be held up

or not

just like me

would it be better to die silently

than to suffice the blame you spit at me.

lost grip on that independence

i spent so long looking for

wish i could take bites out of these crystals

let them cut my insides with the intent of growth

long hauls aren’t my forte

but if i treat them like the sisters that surround me

then perhaps my hunger will cease

and my thirst for future can begin.

it’s been rough

pinball machine heart had me flying across the walls of this boxed up existence

no great escape just the broken clock in the heart of the house

counting down until the dust settles upon my rigid frame.