I am forcing myself to be in a good mood today. I am fighting the sadness. I am pushing it out of my body, ejecting the numb, soothing venom that I so greatly adore. I am addicted to it. I have to get rid of it because it is rotting my insides. I have to clean out my mind; lather, rinse, repeat. Scrub it until it bleeds, but at least it will mean you're gone. I have to cope. Clean, Clean, Clean. Scrub, Scrub, Scrub. You have to get out, slither out of my veins, swim out of my eyes, crawl out of my throat, burst out of my gut. You can't be here anymore. I'm done making room for you in my heart. Your departure is long overdue.
3/23/15
11:36 a.m.
YOU ARE READING
we were calamitous
Poetry"you and i were meant to collide like silken streaks across the velvet sky, we were meant to burn burn burn and rise up again from the ashes."
