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Humorless
Too much colliding within.
Falling down.
Sounds become thick.
Almost touch worthy.
The sadness finds a way in.
My evil twin.
No friends to hold my feelings.
All gone now.
My furniture is worn thin.
Old like me.
Bitterness is all that's left.
My constant companion.
I found love in February.
Lost it by December.
Got it back in March.
Faded away by April.
Will dwell on it forever.
Been handcuffed
Three time this year.
So much weight.
Second chances don't matter
When wishful thinking is so thin.
I wish there was none.
Spend days
Wasting days.
Master of nothing.
I ramble on and on.
I'm paying for my sins.
I want to go down.
Grand delusions
Of the Sylvia Plath kind.
Music no longer brings comfort.
My last great relief
Ripped away from me.
The drugs work
To well for me.
Too bad.
I have to white knuckle them
And stay away.
At least they gave me a purpose.
A way to kill time.
Melt it away.
A coward
Who can't even kill himself.
Hoping I have a mental sickness
To explain something.
Mad at myself
For writing such drivel.
Thinking it's some masterpiece.
So I beg you
Don't humor me.
Don't allow me to have
Such comforts.
I wouldn't know what to do.
I'd be lost.
