there Is a pain I feel that cannot be licked clean by fields of grass or pockets full of money a Pain that i cannot glean from which way it was fathomed 'fore it strike me 'fore it disgrace my face with twists and hate and liquids it does so without out grace, and lacking hesitation but patience it grows in me it drinks me up it tastes me slowly. i'm Eaten by this pain each and every-wake will it take for my own wake for it to go away?
the foreigner has settled deep within my bones again, its always in my bones my bones are somehow home and seeping up every-while its drinks upon my soul like a ******* vampire and ire grows it grows right beside the sadness when will it end? when will I ever see myself again? why is everyeone depressed? why? it isnt fair.
It isnt fair. Stupid rambling. My depression is taking away my ability to write poems too... oh no.