Poison Fokus

Really, it's a clear case of, you want what, you know deep down, you can't get. You do know it deep down, it's a case of denial that there has been acknowledgment. That you can't get it. And I keep going, for this instance, and I keep persisting in chasing these objects, like catching air; It's everywhere, yet I can't keep some. Not unless I wanna turn pale, blue, dead.

It is sickening. Like nostalgia, which has been clearly publicised here, it is absolutely sickening. Still, it's stubbornness. Give it up already, there's so much else to live for.


A close one recently advised me. That I needed time for myself. That got me pondering; Don't I already make enough time for myself? I dunno, if anything I feel I need to stop dwelling on myself. Then again, a drunk never admits so.

This is my poison.
What's your poison?
This, is my poison.

Lately I, wanted life. So much more since you arrived.

This, is rancid. An acid that eats. And now, this acid, is having a feast; There's a lot of me that has been eaten. It's continuing to do so.

Bon appétit, Monsieur Acid.