Day in and day out the same song and the same dance rattle away

Wearing down the soul as it’s forced to indulge,

to lighten the spirits in attempts to repair a battered vessel.

Golden liquids pour down the throat with soothing effects,

but all remedies pay an iron-price.

For the ability to forget, to release strain and all worry from thought may cause such illness that will consume

Whether it takes months or years to form such an addiction is of no concern.

All that matters is that repeated consummation bears laborious fruit to be devoured and to devour in all facets

Indulgence turned to addiction as functionality becomes so far removed as to hold hands in the ironclad pact.

I can’t stop and I’m choking on the liquid as it pours down my throat

Drowning in addiction seemed surreal until confronted with the aftermath as I stare at the deformed monster that I have become.

All that remains is to wish for a death that won’t reveal my shame to the ones I loved.

Forgive me for my mistakes and for what I’m about to do.


Pessimist Poet’s Words for Thought

“Killing yourself is a major commitment, it takes a kind of courage. Most people just lead lives of cowardly desperation. It’s kinda half suicide where you just dull yourself with substances.” -Robert Crumb