Squirrelling down

Abandon free falling

through guilt

self worth doubt

lying heart woe

all self inflicted

how my hand harms

myself



Poor broken ballerina

you never got to dance

or tango. All you wanted

ash on tongue and

splinters in eye.



Can you breathe? How

tight the diaghram

hurting to squeeze

life in. Have you been

slowly dying since

the failed suicide

attempt at fifteen?

The answer unrequited.