Bodies in My Closet

CVI

Minutes before the sun rises and the day begins
I'm already wishing it was night again
because everyone prefers plastic
and I like molding clay still.
Because I won't get better,
so with tears in my eyes
I beg you to let me die
and you just call me selfish.
Wrists are broken,
bleeding out through the bandages.
Time and time again
she'll tell me I know how to love people,
but I still hate everything that I love.