poem

The edge was where I had been

there were tears left uncried

my body and spirit weak

it still is...

a broken cord, frayed by all the tugging

the broken doll

no wonder all the stories were so sad

we project.

i interjected myself into the plot

my life...

i wanted it to end.

for how long?

i can't say.

i wanted the bullies to go away.

the pain to stop.

the loneliness to leave

replace it with something else

i don't know what.

the sun sets differently now

the world's so vast and large still

yet where did this feeling come from

stay for who?

i was a lost child.

you could throw me away

and i would be fine with that

yet where did these feelings come from?

trudging through was a chore.

knifes would hurt.

i don't like pain.

i don't want anymore pain.

fire would hurt too.

water.

where to find it deep enough?

how to get there?

how long would it take?

i thought plans.

i made routes.

but alas, i chose to trudge through.

too troublesome to drown

how long would it take to me?

I don't want them looking long.

not when I'm in my ideal place.

they can have the flesh.

I won't be inside

a better, more idealistic place

that's where I'll be.