I have to stop destroying myself cause I aint got much of me left.
The me now is a quiet shell, dealing with my own personal Hell, on top of everything else life has to deal, but the way I would deal was completely unreal. I'd smoke and drink till I was unable to feel.
When I immersed myself in unproductiveness I denied myself of blessings access. And when I declared myself free of my pain, reality said I was miles from that plain, but it still hurts all the same. It's deeper than all my pains go because this pain hurts me to my soul. Along some lines I had control, but looking deeper another story can be told.
I shut off all of my faith in people, yet somehow thought of myself as unequal. DAMN IT! There was a me before all of these problems and all these people, I guess the question is will there be a sequel? And I guess not if it's me who's killed.