Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Attempt 2

Shut up.
Don't tell me how to feel,
Or what I should be doing.
You're not my god.

Slit an ivory wrist,
To let the words pour out.
And now it's overflowing.
Can't stop the pain, the inspiration.
Would you bandage me,
And silence me forever?
Could you?
'Cause this voice is no longer mine,
It's that of the blade.

Shut up.
You say you want to help.
But all you say is empty,
Don't you know I can't be you?

Maybe I can't be fixed.
Maybe I don't want to be.
But somehow my body called for help.
Are you going to answer?
Tick tock and you screen.

So I shut up.

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