i almost killed myself tonight—
i’m almost certain that i was born
with too much happiness
too much love
(and thenthenthen with More comes more sorrow;
must i really face tomorrow?)
i always knew i had to leave this place far behind and away-
i drove for hours,
decided i’d drive off of an overpass
or hang myself
i didn’t know,
i didn’t know i’d given so much of myself
to a world that already had its hands full—
other worlds have called to me since childhood,
and that is why my soul cries so melancholic
all the time—
i fantasize, i know,
that my loneliness will be felt everywhere
once i go—
sometimes i scream at the sky
earlyearly in the morning
when nobody can hear me,
the sound of me dying
i want to do it so completely
cos i know finally they would all see me
could die, themselves, within my poetry—
i’ll just always be fucked in the head,
fed by insanity, i know,
and one day i am afraid
i will kill me
