Day: Sep 25, 2020

I’m waiting for the authors to take me out, to save me

Before I drive too far down the road of undeserved misery,

Before they can blame me.

I kick the walls but the anger doesn’t help my chances

Of getting out alive, before my heart rots too far

Numbing all romances.

I cut open the pillows, I paint over the gilded walls

With cheap crayons and lipstick, with blood

As screams echo in halls.

I’m pleading with whoever wrote it to stop this

But the fog keeps entering through cracks in the window

And I’m inhaling hubris.

I dig my nails into the freezing skin and I wait, wait…

With the sound of the door unlocking comes my dead end,

New love emerges from all the hate.