Distressed

All I know is drowning is easy. Just stop struggling.

All I know is floating away is easy. Just stop holding on.

All I know is burning is easy. Just breathe.

All I know is waiting is

* * *

Fragments of things half begun half started half finished half touched. Praised now and then. Angry and biting. What, do you think I’m talking about you? No one would believe me, even if I told them, and then I read articles that make me realize you took advantage of me. I thought I was talented. You just thought I had a nice ass. You should’ve been more careful. Then you wouldn’t be where you are now, buried beneath an island of rot, each slice of you sandwiched between layers of six mil plastic, rolled in lawn fabric, soaked in hydrofluoric acid, dusted with quicklime.

* * *

When they come to get me, I’ll tell them you made me do it.

When they come to get me, I’ll tell them you made me

When they come to get me, I’ll tell

When they come

When

Advertisements

One response to “Distressed

Talk back to me. Trust me; I'm listening.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s