i talk to myself sometimes

like i talk to the moon,

talk to my heart through confines

wondering if my time will be soon

my brain doesn’t like me,

so it screams in my head

at things i can’t see

about things i now dread

it screams at my soul

and asks why it’s so dark

those screams take a toll

on my poor locked up heart

it screams at my wrists

and asks why they’re not red

it screams at my fists

to make them purple instead

i wish just for silence

a garden of peace

my poetry timeless

but my body deceased

my mind calls me a hater

while it tells me to hide

and whispers “i’m not a traitor,

i was never on your side”.

-eap<3