Portrait of My Failed Imagined Futures

Sinking like a weight in my chair,

heart in my throat,

I want to puke my insides out.

Fairy lights entwining in acid

sitting on a heap on the floor.

Acid burning me from the inside out.

I’m tired.

I stare off into space,

pupils dilated,

words flying around my head.

I try to catch them,

my net a huge hole on a stick

flowing through the air.

I’m tired.

Everything in slow motion.

The words on the page

jumping out at me.

They aren’t real.

Is anything real?

Eyes burning with tears

threatening to spill.

Everything burning.

I’m tired.

Set me on fire.

Burn my skin away.

Watch as my organs reek

of rotting flesh.

Turn me to ash

and blow me into the ocean.

I’m tired.

I don’t care.

Burn me away.

Make me not exist.

I’m tired.

I don’t care.

Melt my flesh off.

Give me pain.

I’m tired.

I don’t care.

Knives to my heart.

Make me cry in agony.

I’m tired.

I don’t care.

Just leave me here to die.

To become one with the ocean.

One with the wind.

One with the trees.

See if I care.

I’m a young aspiring writer trying to figure out life. (She/her)

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Halle

Halle

I’m a young aspiring writer trying to figure out life. (She/her)

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