Rotten Apples

The words were carved in stone,

as I thought at the time,

the fire could not be exstinguished,

there were no limits to what I could do

as long as I reminded myself that I was still

in control of what I was percieving,


But out from under the rug was I torn,

thrown into the streets, thrown into the wolves,

clothes ripped to shreds; eating rotten apples

Just to stay alive and it would stay like that for months


Going insane, going in circles, trying to change,

but all attempts a faiilure; struggling to do anything,

hard to make a choice, when pain is only the result,

like a baseless animal, living from day to day, pointless

routines: eat, sleep, fuck and excrement; a pig.


Recycling the same shit over and over again

using it to accelerate the rate of decay

from which the soul has already endured


trying to find god

but only the devil

who constantly whispers into my ear,

telling me how much of a worthless fool 

I am for putting my hope in others






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