Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Life of a Digger

Sick and I can't take it, or maybe I just fake it. Either way, your mentality truly affects your physicality, so I try not to embrace it. Tell my mental that I hate it. If I can trace back the steps that lead me to digress then I could get this off my chest and erase it. Face it, facing yourself is impossible. That's what mirrors are for. But my reflection will never be a true representation of me, just one perception perceived by what I want to see. Frustration overcomes. I smash in every one. Too afraid to face the day and see what I've become. Seven years of ill fate. Nineteen years of mistakes. Pull the curtains. Block the sun. You're worthless. The devil won. Idle hands. Fuck your friends. What friends? You have none. This isn't real life. It's just a dry run. Close your eyes and wake up! Make amends? Make an end. To start again is too rough. Buy the bullets and the gun. Bye bye, cruel world! This sure was fun. Sick and I can't take it, or maybe I just fake it. Either way, if I had good health and great wealth, I'd still end up in the hole that I dug. The life of a digger. Pull the trigger Pull the plug.

- afm