Am I really in a spiral, though
When I’m already down
Deeper than the bedrock
Under my hometown
And I don’t know how
Some people survive
Without having to
Cross that big, red line
Whenever life is stressful,
I simply pull out my hair
My skin is peeled off already
Nails not covering my fingers,
Just my eyes, my lashes I
Swallowed
And really I wonder, how can one call this a life?

Peace is a social construct
Promises are just as ******
Suffering is the only real feeling
As fake as happiness is healing
And reality is a beautiful lie
Like the rules we all live by
If everything is a hallucination
That robot-pigeons make to get closer to creation
And hand-forged blades leave the deepest of marks
Just to save myself from this flood I’d need a thousand arks
Then ****** is cheaper than therapy unless the air is filled with clouds
And you are the one in a wooden shroud
Poetry is no artist’s blood nor tears
It is cruel water that only a fool fears
I do not believe in love any more
Because the last one sent it out the door
Of death I dream
Though it will make you scream
That is how it all will remain
A collection of hatred, anger, and pain