I am descending down a hole, That I have been down too many times before. This time when I dive in, I may not be coming back up again.
I stared too far into the abyss, I dived too deep into it’s depths. Lost myself to what I found within, And it made it’s home beneath my skin.
I feel an itch beneath the surface, And I just got to gnaw at it. Self-cannibalistic I’ve become, I’m slowly eating myself away. Carnivorously, I consume the flesh that nets around my bones, Hoping that it satisfies the carnivore in me.
Who knew dying would taste so **** good today. Every bite I take I am slowly eating myself away. The only way I feel alive is by feeding what will **** me one day.
Soon my bones will be exposed, But it won’t be satisfied. I will break them open and devour the marrow inside. Still it won’t be satisfied!
One day nothing will remain! Then it will climb back down the hole, Waiting for someone to pull it out. It’s always hungry for more.
I spend all my days trapped inside a house. It’s a monochromatic senile old home. And funnily enough, it doesn’t have any walls.
Or windows. Or doors. Or lights. Only a table, and three chairs; two of which are always vacant.
I don’t really know how I sound like. Or look like. Or the subtlety of my countenance. And when I look into the mirror check, all I see is a description.
I don’t have any friends.
Well, actually, everyone’s my friend. It’s just that they’re all in my pocket, crumpled up.
And when I take them out of my pocket they come out as a mess of scripts. And when I speak to them my words get added to the bottom of their pages. And when I scream, ink soaks the page, turning white paper into black canvas.
No one put me in this house. This is just where I happen to exist.
But I did once leave here. And I had nowhere else to go.
With only dead ends in sight, ever escaping my predicament seemed like an impossibility.
In a world of greatness She felt so small Unaccomplished Because the world She lived in Wasn’t physical It was her mind Her thoughts Her fears And that was not a world of greatness But of agony Of words Gone unsaid Of empty promises Gone unfulfilled Of an empty soul Not shown honesty and kindness Of an empty heart Untouched by love It was her own world Yet she was an outsider
She had seen the others having fun w̙̻̰h͕̭̫͔̩y̟̣͖ ̭̝͕c̼o͙ṷ͙͖̮͙͙̞l̠̳̼̤̝͕d̝̹͙̘̯̼̻n͙̜̞'̖̜̗t͉̯̘̜ͅ ͕͓̬̘̫̤s̯̮h͍e̱?̯