The Worst

God, this world is vicious
It doesn't have to touch me to make me feel like I've been stabbed
I see no knife
There isn't one
But what do I see?
I see my mind
But it's good for no one
Not even me
I just seem to think I'm so good
But I never am
I laugh, oh, oh so much
And it does nothing
But fill that emptiness for two minutes
And I can't get peace
Even when I'm sleeping
She bugs me
I can't take anything anymore
My mind is done
And my mind is worthless
I create works of art
That should be torn and trashed
Why do I never get anything more than a thank you?
Why can't I feel a god damn thing
That isn't horrible?
Because
God, this world is vicious