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Literature Text
the ghosts that haunted my symbolic heart have metastasized,
i feel them laying heavy in my lungs, i hear them in my labored breath.
i don't need a doctor to tell me that it's getting worse because
i'm waking up singing in your voice, half-truths that cry nostalgically
i step on the scale for the ten millionth time and think if i can
murder myself i can certainly kill the demons: two birds, one stone.
the late night hotline tells me that suicide is a shameful thing
but i'm destroying myself for you, honey. i promised i'd get better.
i count the stars as the ocean curls against my toes
i count my blessings and my fallacies: a rosary tangled
around my fingers, and even you know i'm not religious,
but i like to think there's still time for me to be saved.
meow
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