Dying Weeds

It eventually all fades
into the everglades
that rain depression
in the mind,
not all thoughts
are kind,
but these thoughts
are mine.

Traipsing in the past
a place where things
yell and scream
where everything seems mean
and I wake up and realize
I am one of them.

Repulsive.

Only wanting to live,
instead I exist
in a perpetual
loop of sameness.

It's all madness.

There's the toothpaste
yet I wonder where the cap is.