I am utter trash, and I didn’t even see it happen to me. My will to live slowly liquified and went bad, like it had been there all too long – somehow it was decided I’d be rotten, and crawling through the sick and the sad, there is nothing I can do to hide the stench.
I thought I was loved once, and so I loved back. Yes I swear it – there was a time when I didn’t fake this plastered smile, some 5 months like a sigh. Maybe I’m not that bad, right? Maybe it’s time to stop being a “gloomy depressive fuck”, because “no one wants to hang out with that” anyway. With “that”. Silly me. I had forgotten my place, lost sight of my home at the end of the dark alleyway – the garbage. Never lose sight of who you are, yeah? Not for anyone. If you do, you get hurt, because the moment you are not at rock bottom your side is exposed, and you’ll always underestimate the deft speed of that coil, pulling you back in, slamming that stupid smile into the dirt.
Struggling to spit out the sand and the grit cought in my throat, I implore through gritted teeth, “What the fuck do they have that I don’t?”