Blackened

The darkness in the room
mimics my blackened heart,
the corners covered in webs.
My hatred towards whoever
deserving or otherwise
seeping from my skin
forming a hard black tar.
Distorted thoughts that unknowingly
cause me to breath with great intensity
until my realisation.
My walls are blank
and my floors cluttered
with negative thoughts
and total despair.
I think of laying on my back,
sinking into hell,
whilst staring at a torrent of rain that hangs over me.
No pleasure.
No joy.
No hope.
Just the words from the trying,
except they are unhelpful.
Still in my room with no light
and silence for my only company.
I Wait every night
for the inevitable.
A new tomorrow will be here
with the same people,
the same shit,
the same problems,
the same world lusting for the drama of disaster.
The very few people with hope
smothered by the never ending storm
that drives each one of us
to a place we don’t want to be.
Some of us sink.
Some of us swim.
Some of us taunt the others
with words of encouragement
“just kick your legs, it’s easy”.
Tomorrow I’ll wake,
try the best I can
and the day will end.
Few will care,
few won’t,
few will cry “attention seeker”
and others won’t spare a thought.
When your heart is like
a blackened room
with no doors,
no windows,
no vents and no lights.
Maybe only then
you might realise
that breathing,
escaping and seeing anything
other than darkness
seems impossible.

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