Hold on, but nothing is there.
Open spaces, yet bump into chairs.
Dark at night.
As copper in the day.
See not light, but heat in my way.
Want to go to work.
Work is to crucify you.
Eat at home. Porridge, that's all that's left.
You choose.
The worse I feel the better I feel I'm becoming.
I wish that I were more,
But something is holding me to misery.
One more day upon another ,dead or alive.
I have touched Hell.
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