If only

If I wrote something beautiful enough would you come back?

No.

My words were never the problem.

And here I sit
just twiddling my thumb

just want to be fit
be done with this bit

Just wanted to run.

if I had a gallon of water

for every piece of garbage
that needed to pop out of my throat

then the rainforest would still be wet.

But that doesn't make sense.

neither does the pressure squeezing out my brain.

Comparable to the pressure squeezing my brain.

just want a crystal fragment

cinnamon spicy

deconstructed

filtering through my window panes

hey that rhymes

too bad that was about as intentional as my bank account

a sorry I meant my medical bills

oh who gives a shit.

Not you.

And certainly not me.

If I keep talking long enough maybe I can tarnish whatever

Whatever was good about this stream of thought and make it art.

Oh don't give me that.
I'm not even talking to you.

The who am I talking to?

...the snow obviously
Who else is there?

If I could take the rich maple syrup
that was your voice

sorry, her voice,
and hold it in my ears
I would be stuck in that moment forever.

But I can't
and I'm not

I'm stuck somewhere else
where not even my demons care about me anymore.

Dare do come join us?
Forget the world with me?
Forget what makes us hurt?
Care for some tea?
© LaurenTarabori