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.

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