everyone wants me to listen to them
listen to their problems,
listen to what they think I should do.
but no one wants to listen to me
no one wants to hear what I think
last night I imagined slitting my wrist
and letting the blood pour out
holding it above my face and
letting it become my last bitter drink
but I was afraid
it would harm
my little son
to find me in such a state
my belly full
of my own blood
and a smile upon my face
no body wants to listen
no body wants to hear
no body wants to care
it's like I'm not even here
No comments:
Post a Comment