I have waited for years.
Through trials and tears. Fears.
The gangrene walls in the suicide ward.
Dead skin. Scraped paint.
Morphine mists and cuts on my wrists.
Hiding behind my tattoos before the wall crumbled.
Dragons for knives. Butterflies for razors.
Breathing fire. Crumbling at every touch.
Alive in a graveyard meant for the dead.
And then I waited again.
Bald and broken.
Loneliness made me a monster.
I bit every friend. Beheaded every friendship.
Not finding what I needed.
Not needing what I had.
They abandoned me. For sanity.
I abandoned them. For bitterness.
The taste of their blood is still in my mouth.
Sour. A reminder.
When it hurts I know I am still here.
Still waiting. Tired.
Where are you?
Try another one?
