I never want to see you
broken down
and on your knees.
It must have hurt, to know the star you wished on
died a thousand years before you lived.
As your sky falls,
and your fragile psyche shatters like the mirrors you punch
in your self-righteous adolescent rages,
I'd like to think
you’re too young
but I wonder how long until you, also
bow down before the gods of sharp metal and pain
and slit your wrists on the cruel words of others
self-inflicted tourniquet to draw out the venom
of a world of bright colors
which any nature special could tell you
is a pretty warning of fatal poison.
I'd like to think
you're too strong
but I wonder how long until you lie
gasping on the floor of some condemned warehouse
hoping the glittering colorsthatexistonlyinyourhead
can make rainbows also slither through your blood
and spawn somekind of sunshine in your heart.
you are the kid on afterschool antidrug specials
who always winds up
dead.
