Always Running Out of Time

I told him,

“You’re much too late,

I’m far too shattered in every place.

There’s no putting back the pieces,

I’m just grains in the sand of time

falling to the bottom,

a broken record you can’t rewind.

Nothing will help or heal

because there’s nothing left at all.

There is no beautiful mess to save

just the toxic rain fall

from the acid clouds that shroud and surround

my manic pixie dream girl head.

Maybe I’ve never been here,

my whole life I’ve been dead.

I’m so ready to die.

I pray every day it stops.

This whole world is a lie

and bliss is when my body drops

so I can end this charade

of hoping for the best,

disappointed every day.

My fake smile is breaking,

a kind heart calloused,

from every single fucking asshole

that ever made a fucking promise.

Words are nothing

and actions only make it worse.

Why can’t I feel something other than

anticipation for my hearse?

So you see, you’re much too late.

There is no fixing this aching pain.

You’re much too late.

I will never be the same.

I will never be okay.

It’s just too late.”