Roses are red Violets are blue I want to do terrible things to you.

(I - don't - know - what's - hap - pen - ning - to - me -

where are our tomorrows? where are our sweet promises?
has everything drowned in that gaping yesterday?

(Why - am - I - so - dizzy -

Cruelty is sweet to me - but the aftertaste is bitter.
Won't you hurt me, darling, and make it better?
God is a bullet - suffer all the children to come unto me -
Brains and bile and red waters of God, swimming in my broken sea.

(I - can't - stand - up -

Softly, secretly, with a smile on my lips I torture myself.
I don't let myself sleep. I have to trim my nails and trim them, because... ...disgusted by my own flesh I scratch and scratch and scratch, deeper and darker marks, and I tear away my own skin, and I bite my lips and bleed.
That's what happens.
If I don't trim them.

(I - feel - so - faint -

The other day I tried to stand up and I could not because I shook and shuddered and convulsed with a hundred tremors, racing through my body my vision black and swimming as I sank back to the ground.

(Something - is - rotten -

In my

in my room. The faint stench of decay. The smell of cats and books and lies. Am I dying?
Slowly I am destroying myself. But no one can see. I do it from the inside. My behavior becomes erratic as do my thoughts. I die soundlessly every time I hear tires from the window. I've lost my appetite. I've lost so much. What more can you take from me? I can defend nothing.

(I - am - decaying - !

Living meaninglessly. What can I do?
What could anyone do?
My skills, my praised wits, every cantrip of my excelling -
they are useless against that red tide.
It may be black, in truth;
I no longer have the objectivity to judge. I have been through too much. There's nothing left.
What an insufferably empty room.

(Something -
is - wrong -
with -
me -