E n d l e s s L e t d o w n s

Endless letdowns contort my perception

In such a way,

That I am forced to believe

My ghost is meant to aimlessly roam companionless.

A pessimistic outlook is what brought me here in the first place.

When restless wanderers convince you,

That you are worth less than dust,

Collecting on old picture frames,

You accept pessimism for what it is.

Reality.

For so long,

I have tried to break free from the shackles

That have left me bound and enslaved by my own mind,

Yet every attempt continues to fall short.

I thought I was deserving.

Now, I am left with the impression,

That I am an obligatory burden on the ghosts that have chose to stay by my side.

When will my constant presence be too much?

When will the phantoms that have let me follow decide I am no longer worth the effort?

Everything ends.

I have tried everything in my power, to keep my head up.

But it seems the only thing that will keep my neck from buckling

Is a fucking noose.

When my reflection is present, all I see is a hollow shell.

Forsaken to float above the dirt with no real purpose.

Seduced by dreams of eternal sleep,

I sense a burning in my chest that beckons my vessel to continue trudging forward.

Prove to me, that the pain I have accumulated in my heart it worth this suffering.

To be alive, is to be in constant misery.