Silent aching, deep through the bone, ripping the soul apart by thousand of spiteful thoughts.
Thoughts are working against me.
How to stop this self touture ?
the endless skipping machine trapped within my head.
I see myself turning into the corner, everything goes into this slow-motion daze.
I see it coming
The crash, the burn, it isn't a pretty thing to see. Almost a haunting image in my head. Struggling to lose
I tauss and scream in my head like that of a madman strapped to a bed.
Sept. 5/11
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