I sit here in a computer chair,
staring at a screen whom I have no desire to gaze upon.
Question me, please.
I long for the desire to communicate.
A thin line with what is real and what I want to be real.
Steal these thoughts and fortify my heart.

It only takes five minutes in exchange
for carcinogens to take refuge in me.
Rational thought. Calmness. Ease.
I aim to quit, but pilgrimages are often brutal.
End this addiction, it's time.
My lungs cannot breathe through the ash.

346 days. 8304 hours. 498240 minutes.
It's almost been a year since our birth.
I envision her smile hourly. It's intoxicating.
Her skin is that of silk. Her embraces are true
with eyes breaking all of my composure.

I haven't bled in a long time and I miss it.
The crimson water that I excrete
is a sign that I'm still living. breathing. existing.
Only then will I feel real pain; A pain I once felt long ago.
I must remember, to look back and see how far I've come.

I've burnt bridges, toppled mental empires, used people,
let people use me, let rage consume, let depression drown,
and let the emptiness encompass my insides.
Every struggle has led up to this.
So, tell me I am not human..

I'd like to see you try and mean it.