No other option
but to suffer in silence.
The only physical form of intimacy
I know
is
acts of
physical violence.
I
bonded best with rejection
because
it was a dependable alliance.
Unwanted
and
unloved,
my only source
of acceptance
is from the emptiness
of a desolate
environment.
You fall in love
with the word “no”
when you’re as
desperate as I am.
I’m starting
to become
aroused
by the various
methods of dying.
Because there’s comfort
in trying
when
that’s the only
form of
flirting
you can rely on.
Poetry 