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Hatred grows in inches.
This rotten body, this rotten world, these putrid soles
won't take me.
Lay these shit bones down to rest.
In regret and resplendence.
A singularity, a moving point.
Humming and quaking.
Broken, in stasis.
Devoid. Malcontent.
Split wrists and pale eyes.
A being repellent of life.
Hatred grows.
I want out of this empty hull.
There is no life here for my wretched soul.
This rotten body, this rotten world, these putrid soles
They won't take me, but I can take myself.
I can take myself.
I want out.

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