Carved it out
Of my own heart,
As blood dripped down my hands,
I don’t understand myself,
I don’t understand you,
What are these words. Poems? What do they mean?
Why am I afraid to write them?
Who am I? Remind me. Never let me forget.
I don’t get it. I don’t get it. I don’t get it.
Constellations in syllables,
Galaxies in words.
These stars collide fearlessly, like the souls of the damned
Dogs crawling under the shadows of flying birds.
I am so scared of what they’ll do to me.
I am the god of my own destruction, creator of my devastation.
Or am I just a soldier in the war against myself.
I have broken it all, what have I done?
Perhaps my monsters already won.
Perhaps it is I who let them in
Perhaps they broke down the door.
Perhaps I don’t want to live anymore