The mundane feat of putting letters on a piece of paper is but a cumbersome fight against lions.
My hands can never create the worlds vividly painted inside the sanctum of my inner thoughts.
Immense shame makes my eyes slither out many concealed tears and coats my heart with envy.
Depression can become very familiar company to an utterly fucking worthless inept freak like me.
Each day from sunrise to sunset is filled by loneliness as its eaten away into thirteen long years.
And a young boy’s hopes and dreams just to be normal died slowly while screaming.