i would write more,
if my mind could actually focus on anything other than destruction.
i dont want to be here,
but i cant leave,
i fall in between the crevices of vague hopes,
and all i really want is to disappear.
mornings frequently arrive with tears and hatred,
every day is a cycle of getting as inebriated as possible,
on anything that's offered.
i dont know if what i feel occasionally is truly happiness,
or the face i play to get less questions.
im a liar and a terrible person,
and im about to destroy everything in my path,
to prove absolutely nothing.