Somewhere it seems
it’s always raining
and when it rains
it pours
even when the skies
are clear.
And for some
the storm never leaves,
it only grows louder
and more intense,
even indoors.
There is no escape
the inevitable will happen
the desires will continue
and the constant pressure
will always be there
to do more
be more
be someone
or something
even when you don’t have it
or were never meant to.
The feeling of being tormented
to produce
never goes away
it’s boundless
unchecked
unregulated
marching
towards an ever present
hell
one
where the only relief
is to get there faster
so you don’t have
to slit your wrists.