Sitting in my pain,
wallowing in my sorrow
using up the time
that I've already borrowed,
the agony persists,
consistent in its needling,
crushing my weak ego,
one that needs feeding.
Tilting off the keel,
needing a straightening
to stop my falling,
to stop constant fading,
the screams within
my soul get louder
as the torment gains steam,
prouder and prouder.
It's all too much
to withstand without help,
me, my helpless self,
me, the useless whelp.
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