I hate myself.
ah . . . .
here we are again.
What happened
to you? Making progress?
Yes. Those footprints
are six feet deep.
But here,
they're always covered by the snow.
But again,
what did the dead man do
when the turning became
the snake that circles me?
Again,
I think nothing.
Feel; but bleeding,
Leave; but needing,
Grieve; but heeding,
Real; but feeling; but leaving; but grieve.
Sickened heart, by this lie,
quit falling, again n again,
for beauty that's infected.
How many times will it take
for the disease to take you,
or you gain immunity?)
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 5:04 AM UTC
I hate myself.
ah . . . .
here we are again.
What happened
to you? Making progress?
Yes. Those footprints
are six feet deep.
But here,
they're always covered by the snow.
But again,
what did the dead man do
when the turning became
the snake that circles me?
Again,
I think nothing.
Feel; but bleeding,
Leave; but needing,
Grieve; but heeding,
Real; but feeling; but leaving; but grieve.
Sickened heart, by this lie,
quit falling, again n again,
for beauty that's infected.
How many times will it take
for the disease to take you,
or you gain immunity?)
Just a little something about self-hatred.
