Some days, I hate me.
I hate living.
I hate having to go on.
I'd rather be a puddle on the floor.
a spot on the carpet.
lint on your jacket.
Just brush me off.


Give me my Tears

Give me my tears
that leak from my eyes
puddling around my breasts.

Give me my soft sobs
echoing in my empty room
bouncing off my lonely bed.

Give me my sadness, sorrow
rising up from my belly
pushing against my ribs.

Give me my moment to feel
the ache, the grief, the guilt
until I open my eyes, my mouth
and let it pour out to fill the empty room.

When it gets to be too much,
I will open the window
and let it all blow away.

jkb 6-10-09

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