What is it that determines an existence upon a plane
I do not even create the ***** laundry I fold
as I am clothed in the same attire day by day
forgotten
as I race through a machine that eats me alive maliciously
move by with wisps of smoke
that is alright
I drown in my own substances
albeit I do this alone
in the night
and for some reason despite everything
I still relish being alone
loving to suffer
do I exist