Time to Put the Pen Down

Time to Put the Pen Down
I'm broken
beaten down
worn out
hollow
tired

all those other
synonyms for what
I have become

fuck

everything is just so wrong
all of my plans burnt down
along with too many bridges

I mean
I've lost everyone I can count on
in one way or another
So I wrap myself up in the hurt
because it's the only blanket I have
against the cruel world I live in

fuck

Why do I even bother writing anymore
there's only so many ways I can say
I'm a broken human being
Not broken in a good way
But broken in a way that makes me
non-functional

how many friends I lost
know I'm going to lose more
just because that's how life works
I stopped counting
after I lost my lover
then my best friend
stopped counting
after the fourth suicide
the missing

fuck

it's time to put the pen down
I can't write away all of my problems
there's no value in "I miss you"
no matter how eloquently I pen it
you're not here anymore

and I'm so fucked up
this poem don't even have a single
Person in mind when I'm writing it
I literally can't keep track of
how many different pains
I'm trying to address...

oh well...

fuck