Unnervingly similar to my reaction.
The influx of fissures in my self-sown hell.
Discomforting likeness to my inner workings.
A maze of confusion, sound and smell.
A realisation that this truly is me,
Confronted with crippling, unbearable truth.
Saturated by turmoil and disgust.
A life ripped outward, away from its youth.

Unsettling presence of unsound principle.
Unwanted exposure of hidden depravity.
Only I can confront this travesty.
What is it that you think you can achieve here?
My very being, my mind and my soul,
Frail and exposed to the eyes of the world.
What was once mine, solely my property,
Now bound by atrophy to rot and unfurl.

Its iniquitous determination affecting my thoughts.
Disrupting my perception, feeding me hate.
The world is blurred through my skewed vision.
Resounding fragments and facets of pain.

No escape from pain.
No freedom to gain.
No way to abstain.
My will is draining.

Pulsating waves of crippling agony.
Stripping me of reasons to remain alive.
Unbearable pain flows through my body.
Slowly eroding my will to survive.

Is this what it's like to die?

Virulently it permeates, piercing the layers.
Violently cutting its way to the core.
Intrusively stripped of the comfort of privacy.
Writhing in shame, enduring more and more.
Like a slave beaten down and locked in a cage.
I submit to woe, knowing no-one ever cared.
Growing anguish splits my rage,
And drives out all hope for a life repaired.

Who am I to long for any better?
I am left stricken with hopeless despair.
Who am I to reach out for help?
I am not deserving of love or care
Who am I to go anywhere but hell?
My soul is corrupted; my mind in strife.
The mess of my existence lays scattered around me.
I absolve all the fragments by ending my life…

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