Thought Pollution

Are you sick like me?
Climbing up the tree of life  
wondering what the hell for?  
Do you see every flaw  
revolving around me  
like I do every day?  
The biggest judge  
thanking me for the resilience    
keeping me from taking my life.  
Id bite down on hollowness  
if my roots weren't firmly planted  
still worshiping change.  
The day to come  
wanting black velvet and lace  
strewn together in my coffin.  
Some say better to burn  
but in my haste for pain  
I want others to feel my weight.  
Life's a fucking game  
with so many viewers  
I'm just another player.  
With all my purposed negatives  
daunting over me  
hanging from a string always in view.  
So when I go  
with all my waning burden  
Yes I want you to fucking carry me.  
There still lays change  
for when I didn't believe    
I actually would survive past 21.  
Imagine that,  
Actually finding humor in that  
a sad reality to come to term.  
Written by Brandon (--)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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