Oh! Do I even deserve it?
I'm being helped,
Even though I can't see it;
Preferring to live in misery,
Instead of just accepting it.

Or is this me?
And me alone,
No force unknown,
Only the voracious desire to go through and on,
Dragging the skin off of the bones,
While pushing towards,
"The goal!"
Clawing, through the dried mud,
Now, just clay,
Made of dirt.
Under a scorching sun,
Saciating the thirst
With dreams alone.

If it were physical,
Would be an incredibly abhorring scene,
But, in the mind,
It acts as an odolorless gas,
Poisoning with each...