hold your wreckage close
no one will be there to help you pick it up or
carry it and
if you ever feel death’s icy breath on your neck
know you have more options than one
and if you choose the most destructive of the lot
regardless of of if you will be missed or not
remember those who actually care for you
would have said so sooner
your pain is your own
do with it what you must
sometimes the chaos is just too much
and the screaming will not quiet enough
to even think
much less breathe
not everyone feels the way that you do
life and death is a different measure to
hold inconveniences to
consequences always seem meek in comparison when
waking seems like a chore
with nothing left to implore
sleep easy dear child
find peace
knock on the grim reapers door if it suits you
or fight for the light that begets you
people are fickle
one day you will see
your strength is beyond the validation you seek
especially from fair-weather friends who always
leave for the easier option
to throw knives in the backs of
those they surround themselves with
while complaining about the drama that they
claim to be drowning them
a mess of their own making
karma is a bitch
but we love her
just walk on the side of the tracks
where no one may follow you
forge your own path
you will be okay in the end
fret not for only in solitude
may you find truth
knowing yourself is the best ammunition for
fake bitches and cunts that
take up too space
do not bleed too much
not on anyone
especially those talking shit the most
and keep your heart close
it is true what they say
you hold all the power
let only a select few inside of the bubble
encasing your darkness
because most will not make it out alive
of the labyrinth to get inside
and even more will forfeit before the
blindfold can even be tied over their eyes and
though you lay drowning
in the moat at the center
with the alligators a plenty and
vultures circling ahead
not a soul may save you
so hold fast to courage dear heart
as the tepid saltwater fills your lungs
for you will have only yourself to stay afloat.
let the jeers roll right past your ears
it is not about you
almost never
all black hearts are stitched together with lies
so that they may adjust to their own toxicity
without serious damage to any withstanding functionality
or else they may dissolve.
bury the treasure within
deep down and covered
undiscoverable and hardly accessible
a gift to be sought after and deserved
life owes you nothing but neither do you owe anything in return
so even if it is buried with you hold fast for
the world does not deserve what you have to offer
the table is neither strong nor large enough for the arsenal you bring
no my dear
not yet
never let fear or
anger or
hurt
motivate you nearly as much as
peace.
and if you do make it
all the way to the end
as death becomes you
the greatest revenge clutched in your cold still hands
is the life you lived
not in spite
but in seeking.
Scattering Ashes Everything, Everywhere, All at Once 