Opening a window:
There is pressure from all angles. Â I see no light and no hope. Â I retreated to what I thought would be sanctuary, but was instead spun into a destructive path of escapism, which led to the unforgiving battering by those nearby. Â I am victimized.
My heart knows no relief. Â There is no purity in my soul. Â My mind aches with thoughts of violent crimes and violent suicide. Â Haunted by internal and external betrayal, my thoughts bounce from one painful thought to the next.
To personalize the origin of this cogitation only deludes the severity in which it is felt. Â My hands are not unlike razor blades and my eyes are a trap.
Love does not exist. Â In its place resides only pity, lust, admiration, and sadness. Â There is no fear. Â There is no friendship. Â There is only feigned face and fleeting ground.
A year has passed in this damned sanctuary. Â The walls of the nation are incarcerating the black sky into a great, sucking void. Â Anyone who is pathetic enough to relate is disgusting to me. Â I have become inside-out.
I am the cruel joke of the greater power in our existence. Â I seep through these days like poison through veins.