I cry, I wail.
I drive the nails into my fragile heart.
Then watch it bleed.
I feel desperation from all the hurt and pain.
I feel the despair.
All seems hopeless as I feel helpless.
I cannot grasp any meaning to all this.
Is it subjective or objective?
I am collapsing in on myself.
My mind fragments more.
Strewn all about on the floor.
To discern seems impossible to what is left
of a feeble mind.
My eyes become pools of dark.
Dark like pitch.
I'm there but not there.
The lights are on but are dim.
I am barely alive, barely breathing.
I've about bled out.
My borrowed time is coming due.
Able comprehension is not in me.
Confused and frustrated.
My fists bring fury to my head.
As I cry and wail.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(09/03/2013)