79
I extinguished years ago, like a candle flame under glass, when I pass you won’t care no one cares, I’m a stone’s throw from suicide an echo denied its resonance, what is love? I wish I was peace, those who read this that feel peace will never understand the rivalry, continually crippled at the hands of anxiety and tailor made self fulfilling prophecies prescription pills and SSRIs deny me my heart, two weeks before my father died he finally realised I hated being alive, I said, “it’s taken 79 years for you to figure that out?” he was cremated and came home in a pot understand, that’s your lot, dust and ashes, most of us never matter, you can tell yourself otherwise, dressing yourself up in a godly disguise but you never mattered and you never will
