One day,my body will give up on me.Just like that.I'll probably faint in the middle of the street or crack my skull open against the bathroom sink.And it won't be because of some foreign disease or anything-no.It will only be a biological translation of so many errors I can't or won't address.
I'm nothingness.I don't want fame after I'm dead.My biggest fears are death and not being good enough.No amount of coffee or smoke could change the fact that my core is permanently trembling at the thought of so many things that are out of my control.
That's why my back fails me every so often.Why my jaw clenches at nightfall.Why my heart gets bruises from pounding against a line of ribs.It's because I'm overwhelmed and cosmically tired and probably insane already.
Every wound hurts me in poems and every ache spreads a web of damnation between my mental eyes.Sleep deprivation doesn't help and neither does a pessimistic outlook on existence.
When I was younger,I used to fill my time to the brim with any activity I could,just so that I wouldn't have the opportunity to sink into my endless sea of questions.Now...Now,I can't even be bothered to try.
So I fail.My body falls apart.It's a poisonous relationship I can't escape without permanent consequences.
One day,this body will give up on me like an old friend that has to finally let go...