Rip
Out this life-pumping, grotesque paradox
Because it makes me happy
And sick
So sick and convoluted
My point of view, skewed, deluded
Scrape
Every last piece, until it stops
Because I feel joy
And scared
So scared and twisted
I haven’t felt it enough to miss it
Mourn
With emptiness, pushed away until it locks
Because I once felt
Emotions
So emotional and free
Now numb with no point to be
Try
To be less violent, self is lost
Because I thought I knew
What was wanted
So wanted and necessary
That my void is too much to carry
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