Familiar Laundry Poem by Sydney La Roche

Why can't keys and broken pens pierce the skin?
Why must I venture into the kitchen?
Is there nothing sharp underneath my bed,
So I can secretly shed my old hide?

Is it too late to cry wolf one more time?
Floods of text and blue light; living in mime.
Is there nothing I can pull from my head,
That will lull the constant storm in my mind?

Is life more than crying tearless cries?
Like teenage angst, but lasting a lifetime.
When you have lost all that you think you are;
Just a shadow of a soul, with no heart.

I regret baring my soul like laundry,
'Cause now the true pain starts, none can believe.