iz _ Poems

I am befuddled what should I think its as if my brain has run out of ink my mind my thoughts have no shine like an unpolished shoe or a bland winter day, as if its a canvas ready to be painted and yet I have no paint
but when all hope is lost words come flowing like a river of color
flowing with happiness and joy, bursting with wonders the shoe is polished, spring has come, flowers are open, and a sense of a pure awesome and almighty urge to sing and dance
are all experienced on one page
...

I want to kill myself
I want to die
I want to stop existing
I won't kill my self I'm too scared and I know I can still live
...