It is myself I have never met whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind

Here I am and there is my body dancing on glass.

Have you made any plans? Take an overdose, slash my wrists then hang myself. All those things together? It couldn't possibly be misconstrued as a cry for help.

I feel like I’m eighty years old. I’m tired of life and my mind wants to die.

I am an emotional plagiarist, stealing other people's pain, subsuming it into my own until I can't remember whose it is any more.

Here I am and there is my body dancing on glass In accident time where there are no accidents You have no choice the choice comes after

Only love can save me and love has destroyed me.