an unstructured/disorganized piece

Arent you my glorious tragedy
A dubious nail
holding my serenity
and i swing
with the woven parts of me
untwining
Arent you my lustrous catastrophe
a broken clutch
leading to long misery
and i moved
im at the avoidable end
Hastening

why i ask am i here
in front of you
begging to be held
even in my dying breath
i want to live
but life is also you
Arent you?

so ill run away
with the storms on top of my head
and the heaviness inside my chest
But ill wish that at the end
you still have my peace
on your hand
on your lips

you are my untitled story
a coffee
besides my paper, spilling
i only watched
until they are drenched entirely
im thirsty
you are the pointless sharp
of the knife
that sees through my thick clothing
not cutting
yet im bleeding inside of me
not aching
but an innocent hole is carved
you are the awful breathable air
i inhale
a cigarette my lips know,
— remember—
blocking my already stifling lungs
Familiar
the probable cause of my death.

why i ask am i here
in front of you
handing a matchstick

and bathing on gasoline

i want to burn

and ignition is you.