I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t write.
I’m sinking in this pit of loathing
Trembling with disdain
Wishing you were here
But fighting thoughts of concern
For I don’t know what’s happening—
These words beg to make sense…
Yet what really is the point anymore?
There’s some poetry for you.
I give up today—
Bring out the rope and blades.