Looming sense of doom overcoming me,
Lying naked in an empty bathtub
They are bounding my life
In every way they can
I don't even remember what living felt like,
I've had more conversations with reality when I was 17
I can't let this happen anymore
To do so is in effect to commit consensual suicide
The place I'm at in my life is plagued with solitude,
But that is as much my surroundings' fault, as it is mine
Solitude is an active choice to separate oneself from others
Just because I walk alone does not mean I cannot find solace
I found a way to escape this deceitful world
To shut this ever present voice that tells me
'nothing will ever be what you want or need'
An escape that makes me wake up at 4 o'clock in the morning,
From now on I'll write my alienation away,
Long into the night and with far way thoughts and dreams,
So that they might keep me awake longer through life
And pull me where I wish to go.
Even when I usually find meself without an audience,
I'll turn to the pages of an empty book
So that I might see what I have to fill with my own hand.
Writing is the only cure I know that seems to envelop every issue.
And that has never failed me at all.
I know my purpose of existence now
Because everytime I turn my life into literature
I give my soul resting.