It's only the beginning of the end.
Or is it the end of the beginning?
It's too small,
This room I'm hiding in.

Hiding? Hiding from what?
Myself.
The world.
Myself.

The medicine is bitter,
It's all I taste now.
Your stale kisses mean nothing to me.
I'm in my quiet room.
No one exists.

You could try,
Try.
To save me.
You'll fail.
The cuts too deep,
Hunger too extreme.

I'm gone.
My quiet room is all I have left.
But OH!
The smallest sliver of doubt slides in.
It bleeds.
Multiplies.

Alas,
Now I know I'm surely mad.
For only someone mad
Would have a mind that attacks it's quiet place.
I'm mad.
I'm done.