I fill myself with strange men
Bottle innards
And illegal blends.

On a one way system,
Labelled “self-destruct”
By the spectators and their lust.

Driven by my insanity –
Fuelled by lacking faith in humanity –
Caused by my depravation,
Isolation, and lack of conscious restoration.

That pitied stare cast from judging eyes
Sends chilled shivers down my breaking spine.

My will is breaking –
The “fight” others speak of
To “pull through”,
An obvious deficit in me.

Encouraged by insanity,
Or does she welcome it?
Have I cocooned my insanity – nurturing it?
Or have I always been so tumble-lost,
Void and weakly?

Self – Destructive or it destructing self?
Oh me and my, and our insanity.
Is it me at fault,
Or humanity?