Cancer of a concept. My thoughts; a eulogy.
Leech in my lungs I can't exhale.
Answers out of fear.
Better a hole in my head than this nihilism.
Colors bleed, the charm of death.
Drenched in filth, inherent grief.
Afraid of the curtains, but I pull them shut.
Did the clouds pollute my mind?
Hollowed out, dreadful, numb.
Pain of life, helplessness of death.
Void of value.