We are married to pain.
A harrowing relationship of toxicity.
A forever maelstrom of “why me”.
Look at you, begging for death to come earlier than planned.
It’s like staring at the knife to do the deed for you.
It’s like feeling grief for the first time with no solace.
It’s like choking on your own ***** while gasping for air.
ill with sorrow.
Knotted with no release.
Kissing the barrel of a gun.
Lust with no body to touch.
You are sick, you never get better, but they say it gets better, trust me it gets better.
Glass in your mouth, cutting your cheeks every time you force a smile.
It’s the bottom of an empty bottle that didn’t drown your feelings.
An emptiness of a bottomless abyss.
A sinking hole in a heart that’s decaying.
Seeing in black and white in a place full of color.
Numbness like the anesthesia you beg for so you don’t feel, can’t cry, can’t hurt.
It’s forever, it’s now, and tomorrow and tonight, for hours, and months, and days.
It never ends, it never stops.
Pain until you see black.
Pain until people cry over your lifeless body.
Pain until crows pick at your flesh.
Pain until you rot.
Pain until life stops.
And then pain creeps into the lives of those who cared for you, now they feel the pain.
Pain is a disease.
Pain is torment.

Tell me again, what did I do to deserve perpetual torture?

I like the way you say my name.
It’s the only resonance I need as I lay alone in the onyx night.
I miss you the most when I feel insignificant.
Maybe just maybe, you’ll think of me when I’m not around.
Maybe you’ll remember how much you aroused my heart.
I cherished you more than I did my own sanity.

I tried
I tried
I tried
I hurt
You thrived
I tried
I hung on
I’m tired
You’re gone.

Life molds you into a shapeshifting mess.
One stumbles through different tribulations, and the soul diversifies as the years pass.
You turn into different versions of yourself.
It’s like treading through hell, but you taste heaven at the same time.
It’s not a choice, it’s a requirement.
Its like drinking liquid gold. The concept is luxurious, but it kills you so deliberately.
A beautiful solemnity?
Emotions so immense.
It hurts so much to breathe, to exist, yet you need to stay, you stay because of love. We suffer to exert empathy. Love is the cutlass that impales deeply.
It cuts far, it makes you bleed profusely, but it feels so good.
It just feels so good.
Is there a point to it all in the very end?
Happiness seems temporary. Chasing it is like the drop you feel when the veil is pulled from under your foundation; long, scary.
Happiness is the rarest paragon.
The heart, heavy and the mind, full.
Wondering day after day.
Who will understand me, touch me, sense me.
Wonder, keep wondering.
Wonder possesses you.
Wonder keeps watching you.
Wonder doesn’t let go, it comes to watch you die.
That’s the why, that’s the death.
Life will never give you an answer.

Karma bites into the necks of terrible people like the devil suffocating his lamb with an impending grin.