break me into something worth it
more then the heads of statues
even if the trend reconciles itself I will still wake up wishing I didn't
so maybe instead I'll choke on these anti-anxiety pills
so I don't have to swallow the flavor of life floating away
in your hands against his chest or my head against the bathroom floor
but every morning is a clean slate
and my back starts to break. my face starts to change.
alignment of the way I act and the way I am, because
in my mind it's an emptiness.
multi-foliate.
an abundance of layers buried out of necessity
a laundry list of accomplishments
stage the disease
control the crisis
sell your soul to words that mean nothing