deepundergroundpoetry.com
what if?
my lips are barren and lonely.
my throat is a hollow silence.
my words betray the thoughts that inspired them.
finding myself wondering frequently the possibilities
of doing and being in a different means and method.
what would i be? what would i become? what would i look like?
what would i feel like?....
if i slept a normal schedule for a normal period of time,
ate something besides cheap food, said healthy things,
had healthy thoughts;
if i fucked normal people in a normal way...
what would my life be like if i never contemplated suicide?
what if i started drinking again?
what if i went back on medication?
maybe this time my personality would be cured permanently and
maybe i can sign up somewhere for electroshock or
hang a lightning rod on my head after
i finish burning myself with cigarettes and yelling at photographs.
i can think to myself, spin some primordial wheel,
pick at the scabs, poke at the sore spots,
bruise from blue to black: i must be good for something.
i must be good for someone.
my throat is a hollow silence.
my words betray the thoughts that inspired them.
finding myself wondering frequently the possibilities
of doing and being in a different means and method.
what would i be? what would i become? what would i look like?
what would i feel like?....
if i slept a normal schedule for a normal period of time,
ate something besides cheap food, said healthy things,
had healthy thoughts;
if i fucked normal people in a normal way...
what would my life be like if i never contemplated suicide?
what if i started drinking again?
what if i went back on medication?
maybe this time my personality would be cured permanently and
maybe i can sign up somewhere for electroshock or
hang a lightning rod on my head after
i finish burning myself with cigarettes and yelling at photographs.
i can think to myself, spin some primordial wheel,
pick at the scabs, poke at the sore spots,
bruise from blue to black: i must be good for something.
i must be good for someone.
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