Latency -

I ask myself, «what the fuck is the point of life itself?»

The wounds open to deaf ears asking «why live in ties?»

When the coming years are only coming short of everything they used to be,

and what they should have been

Note to self:

Watch your step

You are standing still

Fuck: «I's» and «why's» and «if's» and «I should have’s» and

The poison tongue in my private cheek and the stomach in my smoker’s throat

Separate the skin from teeth and bury everything between

It pains me to think that if this is my most honest attempt at honesty,

then I’m honestly fucking dead

You won’t find me in my room today growing affection for suffering or keeping

secrets with the ceiling

These conversations were never healthy