| Friday, April 8, 2011
envy the ones who do not have the constant sad cloud of depression clawing away from within.
not so frequent really,
and it would be a deliberate lie to say that happiness was never felt.
but different, this feeling.
void.
empty sadness,
dark, death,
the stench of death pervades the empty corridors of the heart,
the childish innocence slowly butchered in a room off the corridor walk straight turn left first door to your right and then fifth cubicle
neatly ordered boxes suffocate the creativity as the mind,
weary, despaired.
now, this would not be so if the wobbly substance above your neck decided to do something,
but cowards never do and the plea for help has never been broadcast to the general population.
the silent screams echo through the dank musty death,
the child torn from limb to limb, carefully filleted sliced cut carved placed in packages labelled "FOR PUBLIC CONSUMPTION"
not too clear, i should hope.
begone, and leave the armies of death brandishing their scythes to advance in anticipation of yet another victim.
or i should say, willing victim.
the purple piggy oinked 6:34 AM
