literature

Sickness Mine, And The Season Of Desperation

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Literature Text

so tired, so tired
unable to sleep
brains reved up
perception fucked up
manic and paranoid
everyone's against me
except not really
but it's all i can see
go away me, myself-
i, think it would be best
if i could just cry or die
how do i explain
sickness is an excuse
don't claim disability
that gets overused
so tired of losing friends
through interpretation
and inevitable ends
'tis the season
it's so fucking true
to commit utter folly
to pay for it too
reaping what i've sewn
in this life, the confused mess
people always drone
that maybe it's for the best
calling all gods
save me i'll confess
you fucking made me wrong
then ran me through your tests
the trials of the sick
the vials full of spit
voices everywhere
the air conditioner is talking shit
man, myths, machines
chemicals, pills and acting clean
sanity in the season of the lean
nobody will know what this means
yet i spit the words
they run down the screen
collecting in my task bar
for easy access in the green
i want to scream i'm sorry
for what i did
but there is no redemtion
foregiveness ran and hid
condemned, damned all by myself
every fiber of my being
needs to burn in hell
.
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