Untitled Poem Vol. III #4
I want
so badly
to cut
and to bleed
and to take
those pills
and to finally
get the relief I’ve
been waiting for
but I can’t.
I cannot.
I know there will be
a time I
will need them even more
and I need to save them
but what am I supposed to do
can I drink?
can I cut?
I know I will smoke.
will it help?
shall I drink from lonely cups? do I dare to slash my wrists?
I will wear blank happy faces, and cut along the lines.
I have heard the children talking, each to each.
I do not think that they will talk to me.