I’ve got nothing left to say

there are words

buried beneath layers of concrete tucked between my ribs in the place you used to be

words I cannot even begin to speak

their pronunciations long forgotten

words that could translate the Braille of my

scars into poetry

words that would make tragedy a beautiful thing

these are the words I used to sing

but they're lost now

to the streams of sorrow that erupted at the realization that beauty doesn't transform pain it simply masks it

and I was sick of being a masterpiece of sorrow

I'm still so goddamn sick of being put on display

as the one who made it

cause I sure as hell haven't arrived safely and my flight was shit but thank you for asking

so polite

so careful

as if I'd shatter I'm already coated in cracks but one tap might send me from unique to catastrophe

and you might have to recognize that some never leave rock bottom

I live here

and throwing down a stone like "it gets better" never helped me climb I'm being buried by your confidence and boys who think love means leaving when things get messy and girls who say I'm a shitty friend anyways cause every time I open my mouth the only thing that comes spilling out is silence because I've burned the pages of words that used to explain my decay

not that you'd want to read them

I was never any good at this