Fly into the abysmal depths you call maturity.
Fall with the rations, die with the nations holding them.

A barbaric ideology keeps me from living. I curse the creator of mirrors. May I go blind quickly.

I can smell and ******* hair, finally. It grows with me. The memories in my head increase tenfold without me.

Fly into that burning sun, if you so desire, my friends. My brother and sisters. Run us aground if you wish.

We fight not to keep sane, nor to plague those blind. May we fight to live as we wish.

Plucking flowers is my life goal. Plucking flowers over my mother's grave. Burn them with her.

The youth I lost, which I had not realized prior to then, was all that kept the realizations from realizing me. Depression; ye, it is gone with one of two actions. One path longer, yet both last a lifetime.

Set a time; not to awake but to rest. May I take control of my dreams, for my dreams are all I have left.

Malice chastises my pure intent, though my judgement is uncertain as of my second birth.

I thank the world for listening to reason, if only a part understands. Thankyou, all those who ignore my pleas, or are too expensive to listen.

To those who care, and die alone, thankyou, I say - for the curse that is my judgement.