suicide is
daring to open my mouth
so fuck it,
i'll grin
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
dry eyes.
suicide is
daring to open my mouth
so fuck it,
i'll grin
