When the clicks go click and the rifle has a kick;
Behind your head. Those bullets rip
a part of your life, from the outside- in. your heart.
It trusts a little harder.
;My razor has the power on the counter, And im stuck in the shower.
Trying to climb this curtain tower.. spinning with the room.
Still.. I lay, without power.
My arms, weary.
My legs are weak
and my nose. Clogged purely with powder. But it's not flower;
My drink is sour, I try to cover it with caffeine, Gum, and hours;
I want it to work,
But without options or chowder. The choice is;  live or die. I haven’t power,
No money, Just a coward. But I see it.
nor money; or regret,
the pill will make it better. But with drug tests, and stomach upsets I can’t.. I can’t waste it. A chance to be made. Or forfeit. But I won’t quit..  
It’ll hurt a bit. At least for a time,
But **** it,
I’m crushing a little white downer

I feel Relieved, sick, somewhat dead.
I’ve taken my life, or I guess What’s left.
I’m blessed, Stressed, deprived, upset..
And out of breath.
I see my mother, and the lover I left
The blast of a cover. Maybe I’ll forget
But the number I get
For the feeling I suppress  
All the memories,
I’ve begun to forget
The constant feeling. The ache  in my chest
I don’t know what will happen, or what I’ll see next.
But I close my eyes and hope for the best
Im just...  
just so god ****** depressed
And the only thing I feel, a ******* red hot cigarette.
twist and burn on my wrist
The hurt!
And the poison killing my every breath
I’m ******* tired
I just want to rest
It’s dripping now and the tub is wet
I’ve said a prayer and hope for the best
But I don’t care. I just want to end.

I’m not sure what to wright or if what I wrote is right, but it think the words show. the ink still flows, throughout my extremity to the left. and somehow I doubt I’ll stop till death. I have more to say than I can with breath. I look forward to the end of the day so I can put it to test. I swear I’ll break if I don’t just get it out. I need to dump the well now. I cannot deal with a drought.

Is hunger driving me ill and cardio vascular insufficiency real, I’d saw a blackness through hunger, as I’ve begun to feel, I’ve turned and run to a meal as the pain was too much to deal. I don’t foresee a change in my future, I’m alive, but can’t tell, my heart palpitates, it’s a broken bell. Ever reminding me of fates long had conclusion. The season finale, where the main character dies or moves away . But I don’t have a town far enough away. I have a ticket to hell and I’ve already paid but **** it.. oh well

Are these questions I have, dead blessings? I’m sad. out of this world, here with this girl. Ask me if there’s even a chance. like ants, small, Incase. of course, in a place without doors. But see, I’m a runner from design, legs built to run, they’re mine. In Weather indifference, muscle? There’s some. Put together for distance. cause in these days I’m become indifferent so neatly as the seas waves nearly crash, orderly, blindly, expected, yet kindly undetected. I’m gone, directed by fear. Set by and on . Far away, for if I stay. surely I drear these days, because in the summers end. the days will grow cold and this life will become old. in two months I’ll be gone, I’ll just let you move on

I am on the verge of indifference
To the lack that is my very existence of the world as I’ve lived it. For years it’s been a necessity to believe in it. a time when I walk out, out of the shelter, out of my job, out of time. It’s awful and I’m fine.
But this weight that’s kept me. The people, the commitments made in the world of community. The void I’ve filled. Is my a greatest let down, so I sit hear stead fast on the pier of thorny crowns. To keep the peace that’s haunting my weary presence as a man. It’s kept me from my plan.

I don’t have an actual **** of a clue who I am anymore, I’m in a constant bizarre. Thought expo-rational, friend reducing path to anything but me. All too confusing. Especially bruising, that self proscribed *** kicking I’m inflicting. I’m illicit for a hand to befriend in the upmost fuckedest place a guy can. It’s like I’m running outta sand. Trying to catch the last grain. In the jar that’s encapsulated my life from birth-till now
But I’m present for lack of luck and the clock ticks on in gravity’s kingdom of ****..