My Ulitmate Quest To Self-Destruction

Waking up two or three times in the hollow silence

Nightmares of consumption and butter

Forcing a body-my body out of bed–

To hit 400 on a machine-

For the sake of an apple.

Pouring sweetened acid down a throat- my throat

More than a few times a day, I am burning

Hands shaking, shovelling

Green leafy things down my stomach in anxiety,

An illusion of health and clear skin.

Running away, I am- I am all alone

Unable to focus, unable to concentrate,

I’m self-destructing, headed straight for:

The brick house, the freight train

Tired but hollow, stitched but mangled

Every classroom left high- and dry

Running away, I am scared

Seemingly no way out now

Plunge! and crash- the teardrops are falling

No one here to catch them now.

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