I wish I could forget the cold, stinging sensation that burned into my flesh those cold winter nights,
or the endless bloodcurdling screams as I failed to force the monsters out when the moon
glowed in the sky.
I wish the horrific demons would flee from my mind
whether it's 10pm
or 3AM
and take the razor that has become part of me with them.
I wish people would stop taking me for granted
every chance they could get
and stop pretending to be there for me
when in fact
they were there solely because I was convenient.
It's as though the stars are perfectly aligned
so that every amazing thing that could ever happen to me
shoots lethal venom instead of
good fortune.
I wish that the blazing orange and red sunsets would
collect my thoughts and faults in a jar
and toss them over the edge of the world
even though you and I both know
that that is simply
impossible.
I wish it would all just...
end.
But I suppose that in order for that to be true,
I'd need to be dead.
And for once,
I wouldn't mind.
