We Write for Fear of Silence

is this poem about living or dying?

So I feel like jumping out of my body,
Running away to New York City just
to stand there and turn in mesmerized circles,
like they do in the movies;
just to see the lights.

I will be the ambassador of a world of life and death and earth
merged together within the confines of a body that I don't love.
I want to be intoxicated with the feeling of living,
To cut open all my veins at the same time and watch
from the ceiling as the blood rushes out of my skin so I'll get to
see Niagara Falls before I die.

I want poppies to bloom from the blood I bleed and
thorns to encapsulate my flesh like snow white's glass tomb, but in the real world.
The world where mermaids exist,
but they scream instead of sing.

I covet life
And dance with death
I long to escape from this limbo.
I need to feel real.

I want to touch fireflies
And become one of the poems that I
Romanticize so.
I want to burn with a passion so beautiful it changes the configuration of existence.
Because there are 7,328,266,444 people in the world
and I have the audacity to believe I can change things,
but I can try.

Thing is, Humanity was an accident.
Consciousness was an accident.
We exist purely out of our will to be here.
We are mistakes; so the trick is to make ourselves brilliant in our bodies
But to be beautiful within our minds.