Lost in an ocean of oblivion No punctuation да, нет, что ебать Sawdmkidroffglibwdble Words are worms that crawl Beneath my hands scrawl Meaning found in places Aces and empty spaces You can't begin to envision My illusions the manipulation Built on intricate delusions Could I be awake in sleep Awake in my sweet Hallucinations
Give me something to be deprived from I will take it anyway If there are no rules that I can follow I will break them anyway Whoever said it's simple Never tried to LIVE a day. No truth can be prescribed through HATE.
Foot steps Bound together In a human race Stimulated, Hunger for change Heralds heaven Muscle relaxed A survivor Aroma of addiction Asked,”how far did you played?” Now, running level two Viciously described
Get me a Steroid From those with healing hands Withdrawal symptoms Flooding all systems Begins a new world within
The grip on my disposable razor Is tighter than the grip of my own reality. Reflection distorted by the humid condensation, I still see my hands trembling as I shave. I still see the designer bags under my eyes.
The familiar aroma of shaving cream, Paired with the sobering twinge Of the nicks from my razor. The haphazardly spilled pills, Horizontal bottles in the medicine cabinet.
White-knuckling the porcelain sink, Decorated with dried toothpaste and the blood of my gums. I reflect to my reflection Distorted by drip drops of tap water,
“Am I still myself? Or simply a prospect of my own delusion?”
A poem on what it is like to go through a depressive episode at the beginning of your day. Don't give up though, it does pass!