Alone in my room. Seclusion of my mind. Distortion of my life.
Emptiness surrounding me. Darkness shrinking proximity. Sanity is slowly progressing towards the farthest realms away from me. Out of my grip.
The sun is warm. The moon is pale. Rain is moving in.
Another form of discontented absolution. I pray to never feel the warmth of the sun and its lies. I pray to never understand the darkness and the truth it’s proving.
I’m straddled on a chair. The rope is synced to a sturdy place. The rope around my neck shows comfort and truth. Soon I will join the ranks of fallen.