Morning Phlegm

Fuck it, fuck it all! I didn't want this life but you pushed it down my throat whilst holding my head down. Leaving me breathless was just the beginning of the sadistic games you played. I won't beg anymore because my words aren't worth wasting on a sadistic, narcissistic motherfucker like you! Rage is all I have to keep me going in a world where people walk around like zombies and treat others like how they want to be treated themselves. I sit here smoking, thinking of what went wrong, what did I do to deserve this? Or what didn't I do? Ignorance, a place to be alone, sedated from the shit that's going on and hide in, but even it eats at you like termites until there's nothing left but the guilt carved in shame. Desire becomes a broken kite and following it only leads you into the mouth of chaos.  The cigarette fades and I look at it and stop thinking and wonder how if everything fades, it all ends, falls away, but I don't. You left me living in an ...

You think I'm alive because you see me breathing, you hear words coming out and you think I'm living. So many lies are spoken on a daily basis but nobody stops and asks...Nobody stops and asks....... Years have passed and not a moment has passed where I haven't wished for death. The gaps in between the pain and screams have been what you call life or existence but for me have been orgasmic moments of relief to which I completely surrendered to hoping they would hold me in their arms and give me some sort of belonging but and yes.... but, they also left me like everyone else. I don't expect anything else now as each moment of what I thought was betrayal became nothing but a mere fact of life. I read so many books and observed so many people who in turn left me nothing but distant memories which clawed at me every time I looked away. Peace became an epiphany with wings which kept flying off whenever I tried to catch it and silence became a drop of hope in a sea...

How many whiskeys would it take to drown me? I know for certain one bottle would never be enough, it would only help to numb the pain. The 2nd bottle would be the one that takes away the distorted perceptions of a mistaken reality in which I have gazed into so many times and only found myself looking back. The 3rd bottle would take away my speech and the words would not come out as if they were chained to a dead corpse holding them back in hope of an existence to a mortal plane to which he has no right or purpose to, let alone any belonging. The 4th bottle would take away the screams which have haunted me for so many years, I have always found those years to be clawing at my skin and scraping down each particle of flesh left on these useless bones, which no fire would burn away or even turn to ashes when the time comes. The 5th bottle would take away my breath which has held me captive since I was born, always threatening to leave me like everyone else and I always gave in to t...