it’s a natural disaster and catastrophe

bleeding onto my sleeve like a loser’s trophy,

it soaks me and cloaks me in the bane of my existence,

and persistently opens my eyes in bed but leaves my head heavy as a rock,

the clock is ticking and I’m sticking to my guns,

just for fun I waste my time staring at the picture surrounding me,

this off-putting reality that captures me and won’t let go,

now, I know that this could all go wrong and I could end up where I don’t belong,

but I’ve never been so strong, although

it’s killing me, this apathy,

the lack of being interested in life,

blithe with how I’m dying,

denying the importance of trying

crying out for change

when I’m rich with despair

and maybe I don’t even care

about my




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