(no subject)

[drifted_star]

I scratch my bones
against the windows at night.
I light candles and feel myself evaporate.
This body is a little church, a little temple.
You can't see me now because I've gone inside.

My family doesn't call anymore.
My friends don't call anymore.
You can't hurt me anymore.
They can't hurt me anymore.
Only I can.

And that's okay.
I don't need them anymore.
I can live off of me.
I speak to me.
I dance with me.
I eat me.

When they find me, I'll have a little smile on my face
and they'll wrap me in a white cloth and lay me in the ground
and say they don't understand.
But I do.
I don't hurt anymore.
I'm not lonely anymore.
I'm not sad I'm not pretty anymore.
I made it through.

I feel so holy and clean when I stretch out on the floor and sing.
Sometimes god comes in for a minute and says I'm doing fine, I'm almost there.

Every day I get a little closer to vanishing.
Some days I can't stand up because the room moves under my feet
and I smile because I'm almost there,
I'm almost an angel.

One day when I am thin enough
I'll go outside
fluttering my hands so I can fly
and I will be so slight that I will pass through all of you
silently
like wind.