hoarding little paper fortunes
I found that note
that you wrote to yourself
The floor eats
up yr lifeless clothing
you know those ghosts
are watching you undress
but I Won't
let you become one of them
drawing so many perfect people
who don't look like me
sometimes life works in the
clearest of ways
drawing breath before the door opens
but there's nobody home
always alone in the end
Don't let me become one of them