plethora

this is my plentitude

this is my joy

this is deficiency

my need to destroy

my heart is in peices

my soul on the floor

it’s battered and bashed

and yet it wants more

my personal plethora

of bad and the good

if I was to explain it

I don’t think I could

this weight on my chest

was put there by me

the weight of only absence

the weight of being free

this abundance of bounds

and the weight of this chain

keeps spiraling downwards

I imagine this pain.

this girl is a waste.

she deserves so much less

there is some who can love you

but not make a mess

if I could give you my happy

your sad I would steal

to see that smile on your face

finally be real.