A Mess

Fucking scum, I should have never been born
The fabric of my life is scattered and torn
I hate the voice that encircles my head
With taunting that never ceases to end
Calling me out on my constant failures
Creating quite the mental endeavors
Bottom of the barrel, always in last place
Even the mirror breaks when I see my face
As it crumbles to the ground scarring my arm
Picking up the pieces causing more self-harm
I just can’t seem to do anything right anymore
Makes me wonder what god put me here for
Just living each day out pointlessly like the rest
Overwhelming doubt and fear leaving me stressed
The color and life has faded forever from my eyes
Watching the world pass as my passion slowly dies
It seems as though I have lost my sense of direction
Each bottle that I finish causing more self-infliction
I hate what I have become, such a disappointment
My depression overbears and reaches it’s summit
Lighting up packs of Marlboro smokes won’t work
Contemplating as I trail my arm with a sharpened dirk
I can’t help but think, “god I’m such a fucking mess”