everything is disappointing,

so i just went back to bed.

i've fallen into that route again. that routine.

if only i could commit to something else instead. so much locked up potential.

it's all grey to me.
and that's not fine.
try and do something.
no thanks, leave it all behind.

i've not left for a better place.
it has all yet to come.
i've just stopped living.

piss easy and blue like a fermented furcoat.

you do not know the colour of my scam,
but i live like a potroast

sealed and scared of the cold

moving into darker ages,
leaves leave us be

cathair everywhere
red-eyed slots
bring the garbage in

i refuse, you abuse

the pain immerse everything
even the trees stop growing

cut in half, divided into stars
new words, new languages,
it all tastes the same:
foul

vile.
spit it out again, chewing is not a joy

if my youth was a soup
heat some water and add crisps,
that's how sad my inner world is