melancholy
A LETTER TO EVERYONE WHO COULDN’T SAVE ME FROM MYSELF: IT’S OK, I CAN DO IT
Dear people my age who look older
Dear people younger than me who look smarter
Dear people who left for the States and never came back
Dear people who live in New York
I want it all back
Black
Dear people I know nothing about but still envy
I’m sorry
Dear people who ache
I can’t feel it
Dear people who break but still shine
How do you do it
Dear people who seem to breathe better
I’m sick as a dog and don’t care for the weather
Cold
Dear people under 18
Dear people with hope and sunshine
On sorrow and self-loathing I dine
Dear people who told me I should have known better
Dear people who laugh at me on the street
Dear people who think I got everything covered
Dear people I’ve met only once
Dear people who still like to dance
Dear people who can’t stop talking
Dear people whom I have been stalking
Dear people who stalk and then hit
I just need a cigarette
My heart is already lit
Litter
Dear people who seem weightless
Dear people who strike me as careless
Dear everyone who is anyone but not me
I have trouble with vision
Move along, there’s nothing to see.
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