In Search

/ANEW/

I can't keep writing about the wounds

I can't keep coughing up the same blood

hoping for truer shades of red 

This half-assed attempt to render my misery

into something relatable and readable -

it's literally going to kill me 

-

I can't keep brooding, lamenting, longing

for one more dose of despair, telling myself:
"This hurt'll be the one that makes it all 

worth while" "This hurt will be different" It's like

way back in the distant past, I made a covenant

with the very worst part of me

"I will serve you at my peril" 

- 

F**k this. 

-

I am going to take a break. I am going to stop 

glamorising, worshipping my own anguish. I am

going to find out what it's like to tell someone

"I'm OK" and to actually mean it. On this broken,

hectic, cruel, scary, inhuman, anger-inducing,

unfair, merciless, chaotic, challenging Planet

- that always finds a novel way to strike you

whenever you're not looking - I am going to find

the bravery to say: 

"I don't know how... I'm going to need help... 

but I will be happy." 

Signing off, 

  In search of a smile