Life, in all its forms and shapes.
Weeping eyes and willows of dark days.

I wallow to myself, tears fall beneath me.
Addictions to things I could never afford, attachments to things I could never hold.

***, money, love
It's all seems  meaningless, superficial.
But it isn't.
*** is powerful, it's intimate and creates a physical bond.
Money is tangible, it's creates images and status. It gets you things to survive.
Love is magical, strange, and completely insane.

Overthinking every thought and detail in my mind till I explode in hopeless mental trauma.
Thinking myself into my own darkness, where nightmares do not escape.
Detachment is beautiful but what is attachment if it hurts?
Hurts to get attached to anything.

Like the pull of opposite directions intertwining you.

Stop my mind.
Stop my addictions.
Stop my secretions.

I'd rather be blind