back in the shower with one light turned off so i don't have to look at my yellow skin and my bird claws. can't stop tracing myclaws on my hipbone. . keep tapping my fingers.

want to create but words don't form in my head and all the art in my fingers is black lines and question marks.

what would happen if i took every pill in this house and lay down to go to sleep on the cool wood floor of my room.

what would they think when they found my skin gone cold and saw that my eyes had turned to marbles.

what about you

what would you do when you got a letter, when i told you everything that's happened since you stopped protecting me.

since my hurt started coming from other places than just you.

would you read it.

would you burn it.

would you come to the funeral and crawl in my grave and rot away with me with our bones intertwined because we fell in love at the wrong time and even when you ripped our paper hearts apart i think we both knew in the end we'd bring a part of eachother into the ground with us.