The Poetry Collection [Editing]

81. Deadline

Is it still procrastinating
When I'm at the finish line
Just one more poem to finish it up
If it'll help everyone feel better
Apparently I'm just crazy
Let the death invalidate me
She killed herself so it's just disease
Because the symptoms are there
If we label it trigger, does it still hurt?
Right, because I'm just triggered
With all your mad men and mad world
Bullshit
You can't reach me
I'm too far gone to try, right?
Right between the fly trap on the floor
And your nails on my back
This is all procrastination
Because she won't really do it.
Never does. Maybe this time.

The mold on the shower curtain laughs
My stuff isn't packed, there's a mess
But there always is
Law of attraction he always said
Those weren't the words I listened to
But they weren't meant to hurt, right?
Meant to relive what happens every day
And it's already past noon
We always sleep the day away
And I'm going back to bed
In the tub with warm water until
My rigor mortis sets in
And you'll never know, right?
Right before you finally ask
Or finally see
I told you that you were blind
That was procrastination too.

Sludge in my veins, I'm in no hurry
This is how people get caught
But I know it'll work
Because there's nobody here to stop me
No saints in suicide so
I guess we're both wrong
I told you no one was to blame
As I sit here procrastinating
Sweat peels on my lip
I know I'm running out of time and
It frightens me a little bit
I wonder why so soon
But I've felt it for days now
Months even.
I've met my deadline.