Art Dump

Just dropping some art here, since it spews out like vomit when I get emotional.  All of these were from my most recent stint in inpatient treatment.


i feel like shit.

my words, reeking of feelings,
carry the stench of decay.
Digestion of thoughts and memories
into emotion produces waste.

toxicity builds tension,
and a tolerance for poison.
the sole purpose of loving recollection,
the regurgitation of my existence,
to destroy hope for oblivion.

-my self-
left only to consume
and to be consumed.


a               m                    I


                   am I just not trying hard enough?

Is there
                                 one                    to blame

some        OTHER
                   or, within