Am I sick of life
or sick of myself...

I'll be here,
whatever "here" means...

it's not enough to write about the loneliness...
or conjure metaphors that will be accurate enough...

Before the stifling winds reach
the nape of my neck...

I never remember the nights
being this unbearably long...

I have homeless knots
hanging in my closet...

Even though I'm sure you'd disagree,
I feel we're headed back to square one...

The sadness creeps in,
unsuspected, unwanted...

Could it ever be safe
to be with them...

if tomorrow you ask how i am,
i'm not sure how i'll respond...

And if I could stop giving you power I would.
If I could banish you from existence, I would...

It's been cloudy on my mind and in my heart and in...