There is too much pain growing redwoods
Through this ugly body of blubber.
The world has become a teeming mass
Of claw-covered, razor-toothed monsters,
Chasing what is left in the void.
Friends have become knife-wielding enemies
And change into spectral whispers,
Laughing as they swipe
And crush any fingertip of vulnerability
Left forgotten,
Open and surrounded as
The main gates are barred in terror.
Gifts become sinister,
Smiles are mocking.
To serve and devote is not enough
To justify the presence
Of the void that is me.
Drugs cannot cure
The evil that lurks in
The hidden corners of the night.
The shadows echo, bouncing off the
Burning, icy steel of their blades,
And I can't do this any more.
Death holds unknown fears
And cuddles me with thoughts
Of nothingness,
A comfort in this tar-sticky reality of the bloated corpse I am.
I wish that I had never
Been.
But wishing is an evil bitch,
Another voice to laugh and mock,
Another prodding finger in my screaming chest
And I wish that I had never
Been.