The 2 A.M Writer

Stale.

I walk into the mirror

I transcend through broken glass and memories

Every little fuck-up on repeat and replay

I yell and slam my head through drywall

Just to get 5 unconscious moments alone

Devoid of voices of reason and destruction

Fuck the Devil and Angel on my shoulders

Ever occur that I haven\'t cared since the beginning of this?

Every little feeling of security and love stamped out like a fire

Snuff me out and desecrate my corpse to further the anxious delusions

Vomit from this sickness of sadness

I hate the skin, vessel, scabs, and blisters 

Happy that I\'ve fallen from heaven?

Apathy more familiar than Happy

I\'ve given up on reclaiming the throne atop the mounds of shit

Might as well replace the effigy with the real thing

Nail me on my narcissistic cross 

I ask not why or if I was forsaken

I stay silent and numb like a horsefly

You\'ve really wanted to see this?

Then let me drop so I may actually finally rest for once

...