“There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them.”
The same can be said about a blood bath.
Seeing blood
Gives me the thrill that I am seeking.
My heart has turned to dust.
My chest cavity
Is filled with smoke and ash.
It is empty
I am hollow and pure.
But at the same time I have been tainted
By the “city of my dreams.”
I do not have dreams.
When I close my eyes all I see is blankness
Everything has deserted me
And my hopes
Have been placed
On people who will only
Leave me in the end.
The loss has been a continuous one.
Loss of feeling.
Loss of nerves.
Loss of hopes.
Loss of ambition.
Where has it gone?
What will I do when there is nothing left inside of me?
The blood in my veins
Has turned rotten.
My whole being
Has become nothing but
A hollow
Waste of flesh.
I am a child
With nowhere to go
And no one to lead me.
Hands reach out
But they drop as soon as they touch me.
I think I might be dead.