To kill the pain,
But it's all in vain....
...............................................
He whispers softly in our ear that it's okay, it's okay. We look in the mirror, but we don't recognize ourselves anymore. We don't know who we are, why we're here, what our purpose is. Which can only mean we're nothing, useless, a pointless waste of space. Our failures surround us, consume us, they won't go away. We start to think, "everyone would be better off if we weren't around, if we were never born, if every aspect of ourselves never existed". We're poison, he tells us, a virus, a disease. We know that everything we touches slowly dies, a fragile timely destruction, just like our precious minds. It eats away at us, takes away our every will. We've tried fighting it, ignoring it, denying it. We've tried curing it. Nothing ever works, ever has worked. We think it does for a short time, until suddenly we're back to square one, sometimes, most of the time, worse than before. We know we've lost it, lost any hope that we were ever good people, that we were ever deserving. The dark thoughts cloud our minds, they devour our every being, they won't stop. All we can think is of ways to die, ways to free people from our destructive tendencies. They will all be much happier once we're gone, we know they will, we feel it in our bones. As we shiver he screams at us, we can't understand what he's saying, but we know it's all true. With my final breath I will whisper, whisper to the world.... "I'm sorry...."....
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