"The Blabbing Girl Is Ranting - Part Nine"

Turning, twisting, total control I say.
Picking, poking, potentential they yell.
Scabbing, stabbing, sedative she gave.

Like a bruise I ache on you.
        Like a mark I scar in you.
Unlike a feather I always cut in.
            Unlike you,
                              I surrender. To me. To this ___.

Deeper than the waterlines in my cheeks are words I won't say,
Even deeper is a cold I keep frozen,
Deeper than that is a thing that makes me think these thoughts.

Makes me. Hurt. You.

But I forgot what I was going to say,
So what's the point right?  
It's not as simple I'd like it to be and sometimes there's these ties,
With ropes and anchors at the ends that keep me down in sand.

Istheworldadecentplace?
No. Maybe. Not for me.

I. This is silly and unfunctional. What type of person likes what they fear?
II. Mania. Hello. Nice to see you again.
III. It's like my finger won't move the same speed as...

                           I hate space. I also hate closeness.
So.          What the fuck. Am I supposed to do?!


Oh. Right.

V. Four? Is that the four?

Step four. Initiate. Suicidal. Actions. (Again?!)
I mean. No that's what I mean.
If this were the last thing anyone would ever see from me, ever, I think they may be disappointed in some way. There's not a lot of detail and hardly any similes or metaphors. Just babble and nonsense that someone else is going to make some poem about how my poetry sucks because they know where the fuck I sleep, which is everywhere, and then what am I going to do. I won't be able to show my username around anymore but that doesn't matter anyway because I don't read their poetry anymore and even if I did it wouldn't bother me at all because if it did that'd be weird because I usually agree with everything their saying though I don't like letting anyone but my silver knowing that. There's some things that should be done before a person dies and I think those things would be kissing your true love wether their with some one or not, saying how you really feel about your friends and family, hugging your parents, drinking some black coffee, eating fatty foods, bleaching your hair and dying it a funny color, write 'brb' as a status on Facebook, paint your nails, rip your clothes, destroy your room, sing really loud in public, dancing on a table, flipping off your teachers, burning homework, driving down the street really fast, breaking a bone, learn a song, listen to music, paint a picture, have sex with yourself one last time...

Then write a poem that begins with a day that led up to a suicide to do list.

**[INSERT  CLICHE SUICIDE HERE]**