Soft hands idling quietly by snatching remnants of credibility its cloak opaque to reflection you grasp its hand, like a double-edged sword you hold on tight wisping away into the night never to be seen again.
The walls are dark and the smell is repugnant death on its tongue Decay in the teeth. Smiling back as if a fun-house of mirrors dubious, distorted, distraught you hold on.
Cradling the noose like a new mother to its child you gawk, admire, and dream Of a darkness to bring you closer to the ledge. Gently pushing formidable bounds released to self-indulgence you're alone.
As the world around you lights up only by screens and reacts only by the ping of self-admiration. A ghost among the blinded walking slowly by as everything is in full speed. Stuck in a repetitive loneliness damnation of socialization pity. pity. pity.
Pulling onto the strings of darkness puppeting along madness mastering hell as its vibrant and claw full of disappointment you sit on the outside of the world watching it comfortable in its cage.