Untitled

One after the other.

every day

I think the same thoughts, 

feel the same sadness

One poem after the other,

but they're all the same

nothing ever changes,

I'm still plagued

I can't feel this way 

not anymore, not ever day

you may be different now

but you're the same to me

You still did what you did 

coldly, you had no heart in you

to stop yourself,

perhaps you didn't give a damn

to rip out my heart,

I was just a detail in your life

what esperanza?

I have none left inside

words like that,

aren't heard much here anymore...

they were lost in the fire

that took me away

one after the other,

one poem after the next

I'm not getting any better,

I'm only falling deeper

I've tried to hide behind a cover

of writing, of music, of blood

but never in my life

have I ever stared into a mirror

so clearly, into myself,

six feet deep, to see things

I knew were there, but

didn't want to see,

the roaches of my mind

I know things won't get better,

although I'd like to believe they could

I have nothing to call my own

I have no rights, 

because anyone under 18

doesn't get to live,

we are not deserving 

of privacy or respect,

yet all at once,

are supposed 

to exude civility?

I can't even own a secret

nobody wants to keep them,

if I have not even tears

to shed freely,

or words to express clearly--

then let me die, give that to me

let me weep, slumped in my seat,

let me mumble the words 

I could never say to you. 

Author's Note

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