Petty charades.
Petty games.
What’s with all the sins.
Why is life a game?
What’s with the torment?
Why is everyone for it?
I’ve had it with their *******.
And with having nothing no matter where I find to sit.
Life feels like eternal suffering with breaks of calm or content.
This is the worst torment because it never ******* ends.
So as I muster up the courage to feel the sting of the blade, I’ll hope I never come back again because all life is, is petty ******* games.

Lost. Left for dead. Waiting for everyone to give it a rest. I’m miserable at best. There’s nothing of value inside of me, just thorns throughout and polluting what used to be mine in my head.

This town is a disgrace.
Why the **** am I still in this place?
it seems death is my only salvation.
Because it’s me against the nation.
And if it’s not then I’m completely blind.
I’m surrounded by enemies and there’s nowhere to hide.
I can’t stop thinking about my lack of time.
Or how it felt when things were right.
It seems any dream I can fathom is out of sight.
And everything’s getting darker, there’s no way to let in the light.

It’s like my world is burning.
And all I can do is stare blankly.
Standing in the never ending crossfire.
Of faces I’ve encountered, dropping hate like bombs with no regard to anything that they’re doing.
How can people be so senseless?
In a world of hate, will I find it in me to escape?
This place is a cesspool. It’s like an army of petty ******* renegades. Keeping up charades for their own selfish satisfaction.
Who are they to dictate the lives of others?
But with people so conniving you can never talk any sense into them, it makes them belligerent.
And I’m at a loss because they have no ******* common sense.
So as I hope things take a change into a more positive light, I’ll hope I don’t get lost in the night. And hope that someday soon things end up alright.

Trapped in this vessel.
Am I just a shell?
I can’t even tell.
I’m drowning in these disorders.
How long have I even been cornered?
I can’t take the sting of the blade.
So I guess here’s to trying to live the rest of my life before I go completely insane.

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, what happened to the beauty I can no longer see?
I can’t even fathom how it got to this degree.
If only I could learn to soak in the beauty of the world.
Will there ever be hope for anything meaningful to unfurl?
Or will I continue drifting hopelessly through this cold world?
Whatever my fate, I need to escape.
Because this vicious cycle is filled with too much hate.

Lost soul.
Where’s the woe?
Is it time to find a change of scenery?
For too long I’ve felt that the problem is me.
If only I could learn how to see.
Maybe I could find the pieces of me that make me who I really am.
But as time goes on I can’t tell where I stand.
I want to bloom into the person I should be.
But I’ve been losing touch and becoming someone I could never see as me.
So as I try to find a brighter hue, I’ll hope that things get less misconstrued.
But I’m always lost and searching for my shoes, I guess I’ll have hope that the darkness makes way for a clearer view.