Poem #1

To say I’m dead inside would be too cliché. To say that they are worms slithering through my veins leaving a trail of starved maggots would be too gruesome. To say that with each passing day each passing hour whether it be twenty-four or years' worth I want to break all the clocks in my house because each second without you makes my heart crack like an overflowing dam. To say that I’m in pain over you would just be true. But to say I want you back would be complicated, and to say I love you would be overrated or to say be mine would make my teeth grind. To say I’m fine would be crossing a few mental health lines. To say nothing though would be enough to make me want to die.