Poem: Not a Masochist

If some of the things I do seem utterly senseless,
Just remember that sometimes I torture myself,
To make sure I’m still alive

So I’ll take hands and dance with all my beautiful ghosts,
Even if it means setting myself on fire,
Just to remember the taste of happiness

I’ll dance, though I know that they will leave
And only the ashes of my heart will remain
Knowing what it will cost me, it’s still a price I pay

Because when I try to capture a small piece
Of fluttering happiness in my butterfly net,
All I can catch is heartbreak and tragedy and death

If all I will be allowed to hold
Are these ashes and desiccated rose petals,
Then you’ll have to forgive the mess

I’ll go on dancing with insubstantial spectres,
Opening these wretched veins and bleeding so I can breathe,
Because this is all I have left

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

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