This message will self destruct along with the author

I scramble down my thoughts and notions on a straight line

and rip out the page when my writing starts to curve

But as the hands on the clock tiptoe across the numbers

the fractures in the pen begin to crack open


it breaks and drenches my hand in ink

and I wash it away with my tears


but...



I fear one day I'll let it saturate my skin

give it permission to stain my veins and cast a shadow over my eyes

and the last drop will be used to mark the end.


I'm afraid to admit things, and I'm afraid to admit

that I'm putting myself through a paper shredder

and the valuable time I waste

brooding and harboring regret

will fill up my heart with poison

 and leak onto the ones I love before taking it's toll on me.


I'm scared of changing

Although it's an inevitable thing, human evolution

I'm afraid to grow into a stranger

I'm afraid the mask I wear will fuse into my skin

and that I'll have nothing left to disguise


I'm afraid I'll never accomplish anything

because the voices in my brain talked me out of it


If you ask

I'm afraid of peeling myself apart layer by layer

limb by limb

and that I'll be the one nailing my coffin shut from the inside


If you ask

my answer will be that

I'm not afraid of the monsters under my bed

I'm afraid of the monsters in my head