10/28/2015
A feverish craze besets all things good.
On a path to destruction, if only I could,
Win this war that I’ve waged on my mind—misunderstood.
Confused, distraught, broken.
The impeccable failure to which I surmount.
Add another mistake to the ever-growing count.
It tears at my flesh until I bleed out—
Hollow, pale, lifeless.
Crawling my way through six feet of dirt,
Nightmarish visions of all those I’ve hurt;
A lifetime of anguish, I cannot revert—
Isolated, withdrawn, contrite.