a friend asked me
if it feels better
cathartic
to spill ny guts
onto the page
every single day

the easy answer
the one that i know
she wanted to hear
is of course
it is liberating

the answer she got
not in the slightest
it is reopening
a wound so it may
fester in the light
it hurts as bad
reliving the moment
as it did living it
worse so because
in slow motion
i see it was my fault
it was all fault

it is not enough
to simply suffer
no
you must suffer
beautifully
so no one ever knows
the truth
and you must do it
again and again
until your heart
fucking quits
and all you have
is scars
and inkstains
from where your soul
leeched out
to show for all
your goddamned effort

i suppose
a simple no
would have
sufficed