There is nothing but darkness here And rot that fills the air, Every day I cross murals of my yesterday And memories I cannot bear, Dwindling and shattering asking To why I'm so fragile. Fragile I've lived inside a broken shell, Cracked and leaking spilling on those who come too close, I always run away But no matter how far I go I cannot escape my fate. Fate That binds me to this self-loath Where flies are my only friends, This stench that I cannot endure But now I know too well, A slave to my misery A king of this empty hell. Hell To offer up my life to the noose that hangs around my neck, never tight enough to end this But with every breath I clench Reminds me of my worthlessness. Worthlessness A burden to my own mind A wall to my questions of being Hollow yet overflowing I've seen enough to know This tunnel has no end in sight The light has failed to reach whatβs inside.
The Myth of Sisyphus was a heavy read, and I am not recovering from it.