p.230

the deep depths
of my black, charcoaled soul
dug deeper and deeper
until there was nothing left

the internal pit of self-hatred
damaged beyond repair
nothing left now, emptiness
tired and despair

into a pit of internal damage
aches and pains inside
sirens going off inside my mind
watching everyone else glide

emotionally and physically weak
from the impaired soul that still
remains
waiting for the better place
before I go even more insane

as I lay here, screaming for help
still waiting for that better place
suffocating silently
it appears
hat better place
is the day the death and destructure
of me comes
I appear to have lost the race

maybe distractions aren’t enough
anymore
maybe my distraction will result in
destruction
or even better, death…
too late

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