and I feel like they are up for a mischief.
This thing seems so familiar to me,
and I think this vicious cycle is coming back at me.
I feel like a part of me is tearing away,
and it begs to get away from this flesh of mine.
I feel like my head is cracked splitting,
and the only solution is to bang it to the wall.
Lately several things has been a resort,
maintaining my grip on sanity and morality.
Lights and fumes and binging and sleep,
mostly to keep up with demands of the world.
Dreams of going away from the world come,
I think going away for a while is nice, eventually.
Do they come to deliver me from the current sorrow,
instead reaping my in such a cruel way, who knows.
What do I do?
A poem describing my periodical blues, currently happening as of today.