Posted in Poetry

Broken Up Thoughts (Vulgar)


“Most days I feel like killing myself. ” Still get those fleeting thoughts… and if i understood why I could stop them, but i do not understand what causes one to want to die. The grass growing? A dog barking? Can’t sit still long enough to do the things you use to love? Like a live electric wire that is burnt out but still trying to surge and end it all. Can’t really name the answer. And i don’t really understand the last paragraph… the sexist stuff. No time to get hung up on things that are not illusions, that we try and make into conclusions not really based on reality but emotion. Emotion is lethal and i really rather flee from all possible evidence that i am alive. It is like the day you cut your hair as short as Annie Lennox because you liked her music and wanted to scream as loud as she sung your favorite song.

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