the lure

i want
to be gone
i dont really
understand
why pill bottles
taunt me
why rope
sets fires
in my brain
why knives
seem so
friendly
i just 
want to
be gone
and i dont
want to exist
anymore
and i want to end
it even though
my life is great
and i am surrounded
by loving people
why is it still
so hard to
get up in the morning
i want to get it over with
and i truly want
to feel pain again
because i deserve it
i deserve to die
or maybe that's just
an excuse
to be an idiot
and jump in front of a car

thunderstorm

driving home
that night
watching lightning
through rain soaked windows
flashes lighting up
the clouds
turning them from gray to orange
thinking hard
about why i should stay
imagining your face
stained with tears
guilt rising up in my
lungs
i wanted to scream
nothing makes sense
ever
will it make sense
someday?

*

poke at my eyes
but i will never let you blind me
punch at my ears
but i will never go deaf
take my life
and i will never get to repay you

pressure

my feet are under pressure
from this weight upon my shoulders
should be getting stronger
only breaking down

finish line

i never finish
anything i start
maybe that's 
why i feel
so broken
and incomplete
and unmendable

track and field

i am past
the point of no return
i am fast
running, not much longer
i cant cast
a spell to make it stop
please run past
you're better off without me

balled up fists and fire lungs

a lonely child
who dreams only nightmares
dark eyes long to run away
the smell of fire burns at sanity
never lost in a forest
full of pine and wolf hands
confidence is a liar
looking up at the moon
it says 'all alone'

to run

to run
to breathe
to feel the night air
on my cold knees
to scream
to yell
to release
all the fear
ive been holding in
relieve this choking feeling
relieve this dead breath
relieve me of this life

what i want

i want to escape. 

i want to get away from everyone, 

everything for a while. 

i want to walk out on these streets alone. 

and i want to think without being attacked. 

i dont want anybody to know who i am. 

i want to walk away in this rain until my feet hurt. 

i want to worry about something 

other than if today is going to be the day that i die. 

i want a break from everything that i have created. 

i want a break from the blame.

just stay in bed, its not worth it

why does
everything intensify
when i try to sleep
and try to wake up

maybe it's
the unconscious
stroll with death
that is sleep
beckoning me towards
suicide

somewhat-sane

i prefer
to talk to
somewhat-sane
people.

with a clear head
they recognize
the lies

recognize
my lies

recognize
my sickness

i dont think
my head will
ever be clear

but maybe
if i surround myself
with somewhat-sane
people

their sanity
will rub off
on me

nightmare

i had a nightmare
the other night

a black figure
i could barely see
tackled me to the ground
on concrete
thick strong concrete
knocked the air from my lungs

took me by the head
and said "do us all a favor"
took my head
and before i knew it
he was slamming it into the ground
repeatedly
and i didnt say a word
i just felt
and hurt
then i laid on the distant floor
my head buzzing
unmoving
waiting for his next hit
and he kicked me
until i woke up

and i realized
this is what i want
to happen to me

i dont want
to kill myself
i want someone
to do what i cant

worn pants and dirtied legs

my parents
dont like it
when i sit in the street

i do it a lot
especially when im
overthinking
or hating myself

the feel of the
hot pavement
against my criss-crossed legs
staring up at the sky
the moon
the dimly lit stars
looking over the suburbs

there's something comforting
about it
and even though
i have wanted to die
for so long
i still come to my
senses if a car
rolls down the street
in time to walk away
because even though
i have wanted to die
for so long
i am still afraid of
dying.

even through
i have wanted to die
for so long
there is still something
so comforting about
sitting in the middle of
the street

i feel grounded
rooted to the earth
close to the hard ground
the tiny harmless insects
the soil
the remnants of cars that
have traveled along this road

although it is no cure to my thinking
it helps a little bit.

life is my treadmill and im worked to the bone

what do you do
when youve tried your best
when youve worked yourself as hard as you can
when youve tried and tried and tried

but youre still not getting anywhere
like running on a treadmill
the world spins by
all too fast
stop it, all too fast

and you get tired
of trying your best
and working yourself
and trying and trying and trying

what do you do then
because im out of options here
im all out of options
and im ready to give up
give in

this world is spinning
too fast
all too fast
and im ready to stop

"suicidal ideation"

you don't know
what it feels like
to want to die

sitting in your bedroom
staring at your shaking hands

staggered breathing
eyes won't cry

why won't they cry

limbs unmoving
ideas intensifying

scanning the room
for anything, ANYTHING

to make it stop.

the yelling

i don't understand why my friends stick around
is it the sound

of my cries that worry them
i am condemned

to the yelling in my head
maybe they think im soon to be dead

id worry about that too, honestly
this is not an odyssey

my journey
is stormy

but there is no rest
this is not a test

my will to fight ran away from me
but as for me, i cannot flee

my feet are frozen
my mind is broken

the rope in my closet
taunts me, and im being honest

here,

just please leave me be,
now its just adolf and me.

waking up

waking up
is the hardest part.

first a fog
then people
moving around you
come into consciousness
and you recognize
that ugly voice in your head
the bad one
that sticks out
like a blade
in your brain

and it compares
pros and cons
of actually getting up.
most of the time
cons outweigh
the pros

and then the
yelling starts
"get up"
they say
"get up"

and the ugly
voice
chimes in
except angrier

and i want
to hide
i don't want
to come back
to this
i don't want
my insults
i just want
to go back
out of consciousness
to sleep
because

there's no real
point to getting
up

and as that ugly voice
says,

"nobody even
wants you here
anyway."

crickets

in the dead of night
i like to listen for crickets.
just stop everything
even though my head never
shuts up
and listen for crickets.
sometimes
when i do that
i touch my arm
and feel my pulse.
then i get scared
not because i cant find it
but i am imagining
my family
not finding it
so i hide
under a blanket
and listen
for crickets again
because you see
i got off track
i need to keep myself
in line
but what if i
veer off the tracks
so much
that i fall off
this cliff of
existence

goodbye crickets
i loved your sweet sound

bags

my eyes
look like they
are carrying
all my textbooks
on the first week of school

it's hard
to sleep
when your own
head is trying
to kill you

but...

but did you know
my mind is
broken

but did you know
it cant
be fixed

but did you know
it is in so many pieces
nobody could ever recover all of me

but did you know
im
sorry

but did you know
this is
my fault

but did you know
that i never
really tried in the first place

but did you know
recovery never
once appealed to me

but did you know
i'd rather be
dead than alive

but did you know
i'm this much
of a goner

silence makes me think

i might not
be here
to see you
again

i might be
too far gone
i might not
make it

it's all in
my head
and i cant
control it

please
dont cry
or i'll
cry too

i'm slipping
into
these dark
full night waters

and i
will never
come
back.

grafitti face

piano notes & choking throats
seems to be
what i am now

i play a sad song
and try to differ
right from write from wrong

but that's impossible
there's a dictator
inside my brain

blowtorching
ideas & good vibes

two of me inside

my soul is sick.

it does not know

right from wrong anymore

it flips things up

on me

my therapist said

that i'm good at bullying myself

it's not me,

though, it's adolf.

but at the same time

adolf is me.

i hate myself

so much.

i dont know

if it's possible

for someone

to hate themselves

even more

than i do.

to schedule a death

how does one
go about
scheduling their own death?

i cant do it tomorrow,
i wont be alone
and my friend is coming over.

i cant do it the next day
im going on vacation
with my family.

im waiting
for the perfect day
to roll around again.

where all
my things
are in order
and i can die
without peace
i can finally be
without pain
without existence
anymore.

but for now
i will keep
my pocket knife
handy.