What do you give to a person who has no hope for tomorrow?
What do you give to a person who is totally bereft of any light in these days?
The truth some say... But its so convoluted with everyones mass hysteria coinciding with ideals unoriginal of their own minds it seems. To be free seems like a pipedream. Maybe it always was. Some loftsided ideal to coddle and conform the masses.

What do you do for a person who is so ready to die without cause?
What do you do when that person shares the same pain as you?
You spend countless hours attempting to curve them far from performing the act, all the while holding a gun to your own head. Do you really care for this person, or do you run around as a white knight just to keep your own conscience clear?

I've cried long and hard for someone to help me, but my lips have gone dry. I thirst greatly... My body shrivels in pain, yet there is no water in this endless desert. The people around me are constantly deteriorating, and yet I have nothing left to give them. I'm so tired.

A constant battle of internal words, reflecting constantly on cycles long since past due. She didn't deserve my foolishness, none of them did. I wish I had a means of a peaceful exit off the stage, or at least a chance to make up for all my past sins. Every single face is still fresh in my mind. I want to show them who I am in all of my essence, but that seems like a long lost memory. This black tarp covers me in endless insanity. I don't blame her for taking steps away from me, I don't blame anyone for such a thing. If only they could see my soul, how twisted and mangled its face truly is, and yet it sheds tears daily. I'm only allowed sips and tastes of what was taken from me in my life, some distant light from another world. But even then, it seems lost in a sea of gray. I've become numb and cold... Cold enough that I feel the icy touch of death almost constantly. I almost find comfort in his arms to the point that I wonder if this is all a hellish dream concocted by my own mind, or by those that control the world... who knows.

I speak always of the people around me, never myself. Never myself because I know inwardly I'm the greatest coward, the greatest manipulator, the biggest hoax. Maybe because my raw emotions have long since dissipated. Apathy seems to be one of my greatest companions now. Sorrow follows right after her. An un-ending un-feeling pain. What kind of mess is that? But it is all my fault. I'm the one to blame for the cascading pillars that fall upon everyone around me. I am the sole problem that brings chaos amidst peace. My conceiving, my existence split families apart. My words have brought many a wound. I have become a serpent when I desired to be a protector.

I am my own worst enemy, and if I had the courage to, I'd destroy my own self.
Unbreakable cycles, unbreakable cycles, unbreakable cycles. And I just can't seem to fucking get away from them.

Sometimes when I sit alone... I feel cold steel pressed against my temple. I feel the mixture of pressure and immensely hot gasses pressed against my mind. The bullet passing by with a hello and goodbye as I say goodnight to the beautiful audience. The show must go on, but maybe its best it go on without me in the big picture.