I don't hate my life <---[delete]
I.

[stare blankly]

I don't know how I got here.
I don't know many people who want
to be alive.
Why are we doing this?
Why do I keep doing this?
Where am I?

I was fired from [sandwich shop X] for
"insubordination" and "attitude".
******* cowards, the whole lot.
What hurts the most is that I tried,
because someone vouched for me,
but they still stepped all over me
and then threw me away.
**** jobs.

Checked my horoscope for *****;

"If it's true that you reap what you sow, Libra, you're in for a great harvest in the coming months. Your hard work and focus will start to pay off handsomely with promotions and raises just when you may have given up on being acknowledged for all you do. Hang on to your great energy, passion, and enthusiasm. Doors are about to open for you. Get ready to walk through them."


Found a stone in the graveyard with my name
and told it how much I wanted to **** myself
and how much I hate everything.
From here, hell looks reasonable;
like at least there'd be a reason for everyone
to be so ******* useless and miserable,
but heaven?
Heaven looks like a ******* insult.

But what the **** do you know?
I got no job, no home, a mother in a women's shelter,
failed applications for food stamps, college debt,
no old friends, what?
What the **** have I got?
Why the **** does everyone treat suicide
like it's so ******* morally reprehensible?
I never win.
NEVER.
Even my victories are
offshoot chances to lose more
than I had before.

I'm tired, and I hate all of you.

If you're still chewing on carcasses
you fished out of the graveyard,
dining out for the apocalypse,
taking ******* from strangers;
Snap and start walking with no direction,
sit in the shower and try to put the words
to **** you can't understand.

Press your foot on the gas and blast off into space
while waving fingers at aliens with phones
pressed into their stupid faces.
Engineer something ****** and useless.
Break something important and unnecessary .

Prince of stolen goods come to take over
the nation that spat in his face.
We are losing all our ground an marbles;
we are not going to be okay,
things will not be fine.

Mother is in a women's shelter,
losing weight and begging for money
weekly
from her deadbeat son
who is now broke.

King of hearts take away the sleeping sensation
oozing up from my toes to the center
of epicenter of thoughts that shake my body
like earthquakes of palsy or a stroke
made up of
every pond or puddle you pass up
couldn't hold all the tears I haven't cried.

Sister can you hear me now,
I'm not exactly trying anymore
I'm silent with syllables and
loud with my pauses.
I'm not going to make it,
and I can't turn around.
I'm fragile and delicate and
some would say I'm flat-out weak.

I want you to put flowers on my grave
instead of sleeping somewhere next
to me, six feet under, or sleeping in
wondering what went wrong.
This **** isn't your fault.

Put a sword or some sharp object
to **** away the idea that
I'm going to use to destroy whatever
is left of myself.
**** me, to **** me before I **** me.
Steal everything.
**** anything.

Lost a giblet of my thumb
to a meat slicer today,
and almost broke down
in an antique shop.
These things creep on us,
and who handles the pressure
even remotely well?

I'm not old enough,
and I'm not hopeful enough,
I'm just tired tired tired,
and most people I know
also want to be dead.
Express a strong desire
to disappear.

Moonlight traces the door frame;
a metaphor for an escape, except
everything is so fundamentally ****** up
the fear of the other side seems irrational
compared to the valid and rational
phobia of right now,
this side.

You disappear and I go
selfless and selfish into
any abyss dark enough
to hide me,
or devoid enough
to absorb me,
or ignorant enough
to forget I'm even there.

I wish terrible things upon everyone else
because I'm bitter and resentful.
I'm also still bleeding through the bandage
and the duct tape, and through the
metaphors and lack of meter.

I'm still bleeding.

I have nothing to say anymore,
and it makes me into an object
but it feels incredible
so I'm taking a break
and I don't miss you.

Spent a charity gig trying my hardest not
to say, "I'd rather die than be here."
I laugh brutally sincere at just the idea,
say **** it, *******, **** this
to someone reaching out for
empathy who deserves
none.
My humanity as devoid as humanity's humanity,
maybe people aren't so graceful and righteous
after all, and if "Honest Abe" lied his
hairy *** off for all those years,
and Ghandi was still a racist,
and Ohio has a monument
to genocide,
I can burn all these temples and churches
and not have it as sacrilegious as
any bible ******* conservative
wants their enemy to be.
I wouldn't stick a spear in Jesus,
but I wouldn't lending a hand.