You Draw Something

Everything has always been one big problem. One after another in an endless cycle. Everyone and everything about them has been a problem since the dawn of time. The words can’t escape my head fast enough. No one expects shit from me any ways. They all assume they can ride my ass to the promise land.

Loaded gun resting in my mouth I’m so done with that shit. I’m so sick of everything and everyone pushing me to do it. My misery means more to everyone else than it does for me. Push as hard as they like won’t do them any good. If I haven’t done it yet then I’m never going to do it.

Too fucking bitter, too fucking beat down to even bother. The world revolves around no one and it sure as fuck won’t stop because you do. I want so much more from this world than it could ever give to me. Living more lives inside my head than I can put ink to the page. I guess that’s how you know the safety is on.  Don’t want to die just enjoy the threat of it all.

Doesn’t make up for the bleeding asshole the world likes to provide. The nightly penetration gets old, but it also becomes familiar. Constantly on edge. Who the fuck knows what retarded ass shit they will come up with in the morning. What new bull shit policy they make up on the spot? Seems I enjoy the abuse. Really I’m only tired of starting over. Wasting away years of my life only to be like fuck it. Compliance with old age is the real killer.

The gun slips from my lips. What am I doing here? Must be how the mad man feels after pulling the trigger if they feel anything at all. Not feeling anything must feel nice. No one gets off that easy. Everyone has to suffer. Some more than other I guess.

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