317th Post

Grilles in place of glass windows.

Bars in place of doors.
Silence echo off the walls.

This is where i reside now.
A prisoner in my own mental asylum.

Drawings made from blood.
Unreadable writings.
Smear from floor to ceiling.

Weakened.
I can no longer fight this war.

I surrender and succumb.
To whatever fate has in store for me.

My frustrations and anger runs too deep.
To the point of no return.

All i can do now is lie to others.
Smile and pretend that all is well.

But look beyond the smile.
And one will see an empty soul.

Nothing left now.
I hate life.

Don't we all wish we can have a reset-my-life button?

Sigh.
Oh lord of the dead.
Will you take me with you.

Or will you bear to let me suffer some more?

I am slowly breaking apart.
One piece at a time.