I always ending up resenting myself. No matter what. I blame you but I hate me. And I can't see that this all ends with me. My whim and my way a path you cannot stray. The disappointment and anxiety are my true DNA. Cyclical and synical is just how my brain is wired. It's in the way you look at me I can see the love you had, expired. I'm writing in the kitchen, no table and its dark. I drink and smoke and smoke and drink now I'm back right at the start. Your shape and touch so weak and rough it's faint inside my mind. I scrape the shape and tape the gate till there's left to find. All thoughts have gone and to the fog I'm drawn, I can see the end from here. There's nothing left of me but it's okay cause you're right here.




















