My Vice

The cold wind hitting my back. Piercing my jacket, heat seeping from the seams.

No thought of work or how to pay bills. I just sit in self pity and sorrow.

I allow my mind to wander into deep, dark places. No fear of getting lost. A desire to never return.

The cold now getting stronger, it feels good to not to feel. Inhale. Forget.

Twisted mind. Broken, destined for future failure. System malfunction.

Soul bleeding with hate. Happiness hard to find.


Twitter @jackshuttlewood


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