Oh the pain!

Nov 18
The clouds above me bleed their putrid substances upon us all. A million tears upon my head, I swear it’s just for me, to bring me down. But gleaming sun would do no different, oh God I beg you, tear my blackened heart to shreds and let me die.
I passed a man upon a county road this morn’, an attempted smile was lost somewhere amidst my thoughts off pain. He returned a glare that pierced my very soul; I swear I knew him not. Why does he hate me so?
I pray for night to come, though it fails to comfort me, it grants a momentary lapse from all ‘ this ache within my tortured soul.

Nov 19
I woke to draft a poem at dawn, it spoke of death and black and horrid emptiness that lines my feeble bones and touch’s hearts of one and all who fall into my toxic company.
Some fellow in the sky looks down upon my bitter form. He laugh’s, I’m sure, and glad I am that I fulfil a purpose, though be it dreary, a jester I am not.

I find the purpose of this day a thing that I cannot discern. I sink and sink and offerings of sanctuary loom inches from my grasp. Plagued with thoughts that tempt the reaper, I close my tearful eyes and sleep.

Nov 20th
Waking pains me more each day. That light that comes and splashes bitterness onto a content rest. I saw no cause to rise and lay for hours in thought. Chasing slumber, ever falling, this day it tempts me not.
I see no path, ‘tis overgrown with bush and bramble.
And walls! They stand north, west, and south; the east is rancid, stained and dark, from where I came all good is gone.
I saw a smile upon a girl of less than ten, and questioned it. These ponderings cannot not be fit, I grow to hate this mind that strikes me down. I fear this battle batters me, I can’t go on, the days grow long and taunt me more.

Nov 21st
What I write I cannot see, for tears they fill my bloodshot eyes. I question all and contemplate, but answers were not made for me. I am blinded by this swirling hurt, and choice is but a thing I hear in myth.
Droplets fall among my words, and soon a red shall spill and join them.
A life never fit to live,
My blood, I wish, had never flowed,
I stain this paper with my hate,
And bleed my heart, and cry, and go.