discord and rhyme
i am sick to my bones of hallways and hospitals.
sunken eyes and shallow cheeks and dreary smiles;
it wears me out, waking up to greygrey skies in a
greygrey room – it wears me out. and there are
echoes of me everywhere; on the walls, in my coffee
and in the clothes i wear – my nails are stubbed and
bleeding and my throat is hoarse and sore.
i am sick and tired of my bones and my blood and
everything that makes me human. i do not want
to feel; i spend my days hallucinating like the poets
of the golden ages, half-slumped over a bottle of gin
and whiskey. i drown my sorrows in the pit of a river
(like i tried to drown myself)
and i have never felt such longing for a place to call home.
i am sick of my bones and my heart
of not knowing where i can and cannot start
(again) and i am weary of everything and
everyone. i hate hallways and hospitals and long
december shadows and most of all, most of all
i hate that fucking crack in the mirror
(and the face that stares back at me)
a/n: so i'm a bit rusty.