Insane words swarm inside my mind, breaking against my thoughts like vicious waves, a hoard of paranoid fans.
They leave me feeling sore and sad, yet they leave me wanting more. They push me towards the edge of everything that ceases to be real, and I stand here with my back against the world, wondering, when sanity breaks should you answer deaths call? My misery pounds against my torso, leaving me bruised. What is to become of me? I have cowardly caved in to the will of my depression, but what now? Is this the outcome? The nothingness of nothingness? The silence of silence. What a ghastly horrible existence. To explode, then pick up the pieces, only to explode again. Like a vile cycle. Boom, I’m dead. Boom, I’m whole. Boom I’m dead (and so on). And oh, what a sorrowful thing to have to endure! Accepting that we were all built to be destroyed. Never being able to touch contentment, or even rub against the ragged glorious edges of euphoria. I will never know, I will never know happiness. The only thing that throbs consistently is that we are all wearers of a thousands masks, encased with layer upon layer, each a colourful facade. But tonight, all mine have been excised. I am blank, and numb, and tormented, and unstained. Yet I break, and break and break. So please, throw your empty words at me, push me to the ground. Scream your filthy lies repeatedly. I’ve been betrayed a thousand times, what more harm could you possibly do? What more destruction could you possibly invent? I am so supremely ****** up, that more pain will do nothing,but attach itself to the macabre situation that I am. It will pulse and weave through my veins, my lungs, my ethics and emotions. And then I will spiral into the void of nothingness that has been created solely for me. These are not the words of a neurotically obsessed suicide lamb, who has been slaughtered and slaughtered and slaughtered. Although I desperately wish they were.
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