Anxiously Awaiting Death by Diamond Maye

White clouds of safety filled the little room
A room built for the safety of the lonely one
There, the thoughts act as a sickening fume
It is there where no such harm can be done
Not being able to torture oneself
The only torture left within these walls
You despise what you can’t do to yourself
You are anxious for death to end it all
Know-it-alls observe with pen and paper
Trying to whip up a diagnosis
Hoping the bad thoughts clear up like vapor
Yet fail at giving the right prognosis
Whispers of hopelessness cry from within
Knowing all you want is for it to end

 

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