Page 68 - Written Feelings

No sense

I miss back when life had meaning
I miss thinking it was worth it
A sunflower always leaning
Towards light. but now, a hermit

Finding comfort in discomfort
Loving how it feels to hate
Depression makes me triumphant
Being awful suits me great

As I'm sinking deep in madness
I feel closer to transcending
A black stain on top a canvas
With an ink that’s never ending

I have never liked my senses
Guess that's why I lost them all
Lowering all my defenses
This is it, my final brawl.