Circle back again

   This is a disclaimer to all those who may care. There's nothing here nor there, just emptiness, madness from constant failures that always turn inwards, into a pit of sadness. 

   "These are the words of a defeatist!" I keep telling myself as I keep reminding the voices in my head, that the glass is half full. But, I know I'm a fool. Who needs to fool himself to carry on. I am living life only to find death. I write these very words with a growing shortness of breath. I admit that I am an addict! A dick. I confess the obvious; I am a mess! So in infinite sadness I say "Friends stay away!" for there is no black and white, just smokey gray to a slave shackled by his own chains, evermore crawling to an early grave.

 I will say,

I am an annoying plague for which favor is returned by the crashing waves.

The disease is spit up and removed to avoid contamination by the foreboding sea.

With this dismiss,

I am refresh upon the shore looking back to the ocean 

shaking my clinched fist.

Upon examination, 

I realized with a new found sense of uneasiness that I was once more free

But, woe is me 

a cripple before humanity,

Unable to sit at the table or merely be stable in-weather or in pleasure.

Here I am, 

a new my friend at the end of my own rope, 

as I loop it tight with the intent to choke.

my flesh crawls like the crabs before me upon the sand, 

with idol hands beneath the grains 

with thoughts of burying my own remains.

So I may hide from judgments down tilted eyes 

that see the failures of my feeble attempts to just survive.

I know, 

yes I know!

That all I do is merely for show.

So allow the jester to amuse, 

with skin so thin that the wind will so easily bruise  

a hollow soul.

Another joke is told 

as deeper proceeds the hole.

I reflect, 

seeing they may in time accept me as one of their own.

But, 

the chance of being exposed as a mirror of failure chills me to the bone.

No choice, but to stun in what I quickly become 

a vile hermit lashing out with a desire to be left in solos.

Analytically, 

they snap back befuddled and amazed 

as I exit the shores of salvation into the dark distant offset cave.

To them, 

I chime back; from a looking shoulder “ calm your worry some minds, all is fine, your world is just that; yours not mine.”

I swiftly disappeared from all gaze, 

hiding in my new grave.

Self-exiled to a life of deprave, 

A victim of misanthrope 

as it's ungrudging slave....

I am less                        
depressed                     
I regress                         
pushing demons off my chest                           
I am my best under unwanted stress    
I've been here for way too long              
while I hate it I've grown strong                 
I've grown accustomed                               
to pain                          
shame                        
knowing that I am to blame           
for the whispers of my name                    
as I watch friends fall like rain                 
but,                                  
I am not really sad    
not even mad          
kind of in a way glad                                  
that I can release myself in this way           
so all my anger is locked here on this page                           
to stay                  
instead of inside of me                             
that's why I walk around carefree        
truth be                    
while I'm haunted here                                  
in reality                     
I'm free                      
with all my demons locked in this box

exiled                
drafted into fantasy                          

knowing this is the key                                  
to my humanity          
for my sanity          
this is                        
 me

   .

by the unknown sith

Reviews

[The Unknown Sith]

this is for those who can relate and like there coffee black...with that being said if you are stuck in darkness and can't seem to escape, please reach out for a helping hand.
(988 Suicide and crisis lifeline) I know too many who didn't and now it's too late. Despite what some say, graves usually don't have much to say.