but the scars
on your arms
aren't as bad
as the screams
in your head

My feelings for you
are like the ocean
one minute they're
calm
balanced
hardly even there at all
and the next they're
rushing towards the
ends of my tongue
violently trying to break fee
but then only to end up
crashing and retreating
to the back of my throat
I want to tell you how I
feel but how am I
supposed to that if
all this time I've spent
trying to figure out my feelings
was just enough time
for you to give up
and move on

I often think
About how much strength
It would take
To leave this world
With that tan rope
Lying in my
Garage

Or maybe
That black
Revolver
Hidden not so carefully
In the basement

Or maybe
It's just as easy
To open up
Those brown
Cabinet doors
And reach my hand in
To grab
The big bottle
Of beautiful
Pills

But most days
I am far too
Weak
To do any
Of these options

But some days
I have all the
Strength
In the world
And could easily
Just get up and
Leave.

-e.w.