There an undeniable sense of satisfaction
When your entire being in declining.
My hair,
My proud kinky curls,
Are dying into my own hands.
My skin,
Brown tanned skin,
Is dying up and covered with acne scars.
My body,
Healthy and thick,
Is getting smaller and weaker.
My mind,
As deranged as it is,
Is swimming in terrorized thoughts
My will,
My will to live and partake in this life,
Is missing and I don’t care enough to find it.
I see the issue,
I feel myself sinking,
But I don’t care enough
To pull myself back to the surface.
Don’t bother saving me.
I want to see how bad I can get.
The Paramour 