Its dark. Buzzing of voices zoom and echo about the tunnel. Quacking and rumbling are my insides until churned splat into roadkill. Even the vultures prefer not to feast upon my limp, ****** corpse.

I'm not me anymore, I can't remember what she was like. I read somewhere that memory loss can develop from Depression, otherwise I've developed a subconscious talent for suppressing meaningless occurrences. Bravo.

Death couldn't save me, be lucky if It could. Combine Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd along with Where is My Mind by The Pixies to generally summarize the agony i feel.
Teen angst and un-satisfaction.
A crave unfed, a thirst unquenched.
I've been beaten to the point where I enjoy it, I practically lust for it.

Life and happiness are imaginarily irrelevant. I don't want it, I never did.
I want to feel, whatever. I've been numb for too long. Almost a year by September.

Dear God, spare me will ya?
I forget, I'm an Atheist.