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Aug 2018
This is not a poem and if you take the time to even care or read this well I guess thank you.
Every morning I wake up and put a fake smile on I wear a coat of shame and guilt for the wrong I have done to others and the things I have said.
I know I am a bad man I am past that I just hate my life and most of all myself. I have contemplated suicide a few times but I am to much of a coward to go through with it yeah Im so pathetic I can't even end my own suffering. This all started when my dearest friends and family my wife and my daughter died I lost faith,hope,clear judgment, and a whole lot more.
I now sit in a motel room at 1:40 in that am telling a group of strangers my troubles thinking somebody gives a **** and the whole things feels ridiculous. I drink allot more everyday and the more I drink the worse I feel but when I try to stop it only gets worse. Everything is kinda ****** readers I guess this is hell and all of this is what I deserve in the end maybe I will die with peace but until then I will drink myself to sleep.

Good day to you all
John Yuri Yasmirakov
John Yuri Yasmirakov
Written by
John Yuri Yasmirakov  122/M/Everywhere but nowhere
(122/M/Everywhere but nowhere)   
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