Puncture And Release

Everyday madness.

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I FUCKED UP

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I feel fat, ugly,useless, not loved, hated, ignorant, alone, softer than one ply toilet paper and dead already.

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Ps I can’t see stilll

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When you decide to share a poem and send the entire note in your phone. Grabs inhaler pops a Xanax and lays here silent in the dark. My past is bad, blood in the shower. Blood in shower. Blood in the shower. The curtain better remain, and my diamonds.

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My parents knowing I have not a scent to my name went and got food. Four tacos. Just enough for two. I will remain on my spoon full of peanut butter a day. I will be back down 100 pounds in no time. How kind of my father understanding that my wife left me high and dry.

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Watching time pieces are saving my life.

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July and faberware

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The train, the gas, the running, the starvation, thank you for making me go through the same things our ancestors did. You will not live this life without the pain you’ve caused.

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Am dehydrated? I’m down to moments. I still cant see. So what’s the points in this life. She will not miss me. The next thunderstorm is my right of passage. It only seems correct. I won’t die. Old in. Your grasp and i will die the way I never thought you would let me. I’m just thankful you won’t see it. Buy a bundle of dried. Thistles and leave then where you think I would like them. Best.

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One snack a day for over a month. My body feels heavy. The twine calls to me, the knife, and the wicked thoughts that torment me.

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I need this to stop. I can’t handle it!

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Pooems even lie, you were my poem.

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Ps: we made a promise

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Also I never eat, it’s impossible. Less flesh, more fun. You willl feel the pain I’m in.