I Need To Be Dead Or I Need To Be Happy. I Will Accept No Substitutes (except Maybe Cake) And No Inbetweens.

I need to be Dead or I need to be happy. I will accept no substitutes (except maybe cake) and no inbetweens.

How do I explain

That I have a desperate need

To be held tight and safe

But that I am exhausted

To the point of rotting

And can’t reach out to you

Any more than a twitching finger

On a half extended arm

So if you find

You have a day or two free

Please come, slowly, into my life

And offer whatever life you can spare

Or even just some contact

I would happily spend months

Safely wrapped in your arms

no more

no more talking

no more texting

no more late night calls

no more six hour conversations

it’s been a fun time

but I love you all too much

to weigh you down

[placeholder for if the person receiving the poem is ok with it being posted]

following last night, mother dearest has done… absolutely nothing. So yes, turns out that trip to A&E was just so she could feel good about doing the right parenting thing™️

I think I’m some ways I was born to fight

I know that sounds dramatic so let me explain:

I can't sit still for long 

My fists are nearly always clenched 

I’m so hard headed 

It puts mules to shame

I’m mostly made of thin sticks

Draped in paper

With a wiry strength 

Born, apparently, from malnourished muscles 

I was born to fight

And I will

But sometimes I just want to cry