These episodes I have continue to take big steamy shits on anything I have worked for, crushing my moods and torturing my fucking past. Telling me to end it and lose my self to the pain. Get out it says, get out of living. Escape it all you lonely bastard, leave behind the cruel mistress of chance and swallow those pills it will say. I know because I hear it, I hear it every single goddamn second. For I know it won’t get better… This destitute fucking solitude that I am entrenched in will never wither for it is a part of my existence.
Everybody says you just have to wait for the right person but who the fuck will want this? A blabbering mess of lies and hopelessness. I have no drive to succeed and these twits tell me that I am functioning properly and that I will just have to learn how to wait for the one. Which fucking one??? You say there is, but this gaping hole in my throat keeps me from believing because I have no voice to heal and none to lure a love of capacity.
The grasp of death pries away my lid to reveal a blackened fruit, one aged beyond recognition and use… Why can’t I just let go? Allow it to envelope my all and feast off my pain. Escape from my bitter lonliness and solidarity… Show me the light or let me go, drop my hands and open the doors to allow through what I so vehemently thirst for.