Appendages faint away to prune

The thrashing floggings snap the back of my flesh

Progress on the glossy road, it grows wider by the step

What good will come of this?

Am I self-destructive?

Am I a masochist?

Am I something special?

Do I mean anything at all?

Or am I merely bound to fall?

Acidic streams scathe my esophagus

Anguish unbeknownst to all souls 

The merry way, receptive

Greets everyone but I

With an inviting twinkle, a sincere smile

Dissolve my yearning to die

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ugh that sucks balls. You would think my writing will flow better, more articulately as of now. Fuck.

I'm in an ice box, purple flesh

I'll conquer my loneliness

I WILL be over this

When I discover who care

I am not seeking attention

I can't help I'm an emotional wreck

I do the best I can with the manner in which I'm wired

Are we off on a bad foot? We're disregarding each other. Once I feel better, not nauseous and like a piece of dog shit then I can initiate and go back to my normal self with her.

And we will hopefully have our little chat. 

Maybe I will write a letter instead. Get in all I need to say. Closure, in a way.

I'm so damn fatigued.

I'll do that in a bit maybe, although I prefer in person.

Maybe text then a quick talk in person. Low key. Chill. No big deal at all. I feel so shitty about myself.

Will someone reach out to me? I feel really, truly unloved.

I'm calling KB.