incisions too shallow to remove what ails me lacerations too meager to render consciousness predisposed juxtaposed undisclosed illness throes hindering my progression stagnancy defeats me despite my best efforts this exchange died years ago so much wasted love and remorse spent clinging to the corpse rot i will bury the debt but i will no longer mourn the dead in spite of all of this i surely hope your words meant well more often than not but either way i say we let them fucking rot worshipping my sickness dependence on sadness brings me nothing but the same consequence same outcome day by day descending sinking deep down the drain no heroics let me drown