As the days get deeper
So does the hole

People start losing their unique ****** qualities
The objects in your house become dull clutter
Monday morphs into Tuesday and Tuesday morphs into Wednesday and Wednesday morphs into Thursday and
All of a sudden you don’t know what day it is.

The only thing that doesn’t lose its edge
Are the words that pump out from your lung,
to vibrate from your vocal cords,
then are fine tuned from your larynx,
and emanate from your articulators.
Those are the words that stuff me deeper into the hole.

Sometimes it’s not words
but actions
That burry me under and into the darkness.

This hole I speak of,
***** you in and won’t let you out
Until you’ve admitted defeat
And hell,
You’ll never live to see the day that

I, Admit Defeat.