All I can say is, this must be a test
to see if I’ll bend or break when I’m pressed.
And I feel weak to say so, but I think I’m breaking
if you see me smiling, just know that I’m faking.
I feel so betrayed, even though it’s my fault
that things fall apart, that they hurt and assault,
but I know what I feel; I’ve felt it before,
the feeling of wanting to slam every door
I ever once opened to let in the light.
I want to be broken and live in the night.
I know where to go, and it’s not very far
to be lost to the world and cave in to the dark,
and I admit it sounds tempting—that beautiful ease—
that the madman alone in his lunacy sees.
It takes extra effort to remain here and try
to forget the strange pull of wanting to die.

                                                            -Kaitlyn Medina                       [11/2/09]


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