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B. P. D.

This miserable maelstrom of lows,
Holds me down below the waterline ,
Where I can't open my eyes,
hearing is nulled ,
And I'm left with my feelings to the extreme , plus overemphathized.

All of this for whatever reason
Has a negative twist ,
An unregulated death wish to live with,
A mesmerizing force so menacing
It feels like I'm metaphorically
Drowning in meloncholy .
Literally dwelling figuritively,
Outside my head , inside my mind ,
What does this mean who am I to decide .
What if I don't want to believe ,
Why can't I just override
These thoughts that I perceive
As lies , from deep inside contrived,
I wonder so often until I cry ,
Beside myself so often am I .

Danger danger anger is there ,
Cut back concern , turn down the care ,
Its not your place to share .
It would be so great
If I could rationalize this ,
But truth of it is ,
I struggle with faith , and
I grapple with happiness ,
I give in to hate ,
While living in hopelessness ,
Relentless empitness is
meaningless openness.

Powerless over loneliness
Means that Tiredness is ubiquitous
Making My life end up as fiction
my only willingness is bitterness
I only look forward to contradiction,
Its how I survive in this wilderness..