I want to scream
into my pillow
and cry
until my head bursts,
and throw a tantrum,
and drink til I'm drunk,
and punch a wall
til I see blood.
and sell myself
for I was never happy
with my body
anyways.
and die in someone's arms;
because that's how weak
and breakable
I feel
and have felt
for a while.
but you probably
didn't know that.
no one did.
because everyone's
busy being themselves,
you do you.
and I get that.
~insomnia
