Today was nothing more
than a woeful echo
of my life yesterday.
And the same is true for
every day I have lived
ever since I gave up.
I don’t remember
what led me down this
lonely desolate
path of nihilism,
of self-destruction.
I don’t recall
a time I felt
differently.
Blank mind. Blank walls.
So I wait,
stoic, numb,
as silence
descends
upon
me.