I Create To Suffer pt.1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Here's a piece I'd written July 2017. It's a vivid illustration of the kind of person I am during my creative process. I've always claimed to suffer when I write, because I truly do. I feel
everything I write. In a rough draft of this that I found recently in my old notebooks, I saw that I'd written a dedication. It says "I dedicate this piece to my creative process. I need you, but
fuck you, all the same". There's a part two that I'd written several months after this that was more of an explanation than an outburst or expressive suffering.

Submitted: June 08, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 08, 2018










Don't touch me

I'll shatter to pieces

I hold no answers

I'm starched, yet creaseless

I'm a floor covered in filthy laundry

My whole existence is soiled

I'm getting so used to being discarded

To the victor goes the spoils

I found some victory in the trash

In the shape forty lashes

I'm dissected without the use of tools

Demons sift through me like ashes

I prefer to take too much

Struggle to ride it out

Where's my daily overdose?

Death is gaining higher clout

I like to pick at my scars

The tissue always gives way

Blood covers all of my clothes

I suffer every fucking day

Don't you dare worry about me

I doesn't quite hurt enough

It only hurts when I breathe

This is not me just trying to be tough

I pause...to vomit on myself

Things just seem to go this way

I wipe the vomit off my chin

...and I get on with my day



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