Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?
My body’s health is better, while my mental health is worse
If that’s a joke, I don’t feel quite amused
It feels as if there’s just no way for me to lift this curse
No matter what I do, I’m still confused
Withdrawing, I’m withdrawing from the ways I hurt the world
And all the ways my mind likes hurting me
I’m stuck in a deep rut of harmful feelings, harmful acts;
I’m feeling, and I cause, pure misery
I have nothing but regrets, beside my guilt and my self loathing
If I should laugh, believe me, it’s an act
Or else a fleeting feeling that cannot destroy my faith
That I’m a worthless menace; that’s a fact.
I know I’m better off without me, and I’m sure you would be, too:
If you were free of me, you’d be relieved
And so without much more adieu, I’ll kiss the screen goodbye.
I’m much less sane that I had once believed.
Good bye good bye good bye
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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