Trying real hard to work through everything that's going on right now. Each and every one of us has our own way of dealing with the stress: games, food, drugs (and don't think caffeine and alcohol aren't included here); but at what cost does it come? How about a poem to express how I feel after my comfort..........
#45
Paranoid sensitivity
At its finest;
In a list
With those unwanted.
Little to no dignity,
Just a modicum of trust.
Tunnel vision’s a must.
Quickened anxiety.
It’s impending,
Pursuing humming;
A grinding machine!
Spitting out your comfort,
Leaving you with what?
Usually squat.
A lonesome down
Is never amiss
But who really needs this?
Fuck it........
