Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

No warmth is me.

I am the stalactites that drip frozen like tears from a cavern wall...
Ready to break and crack, to be melted...
Melted down with the dusted bones that rest in the soil,
Whose teeth crawl with maggots, whose tongues creep with flies...

Whose friends shall soon be mine.

No dreams are me.
I am the nothingness that spawns in the coners of a schizophrenic mind...
Releasing my thoughts with steady, convincing reveries...
You believe them graceful swans....
When I would rather dance away the hours to the pitter-patters of comforting bullshit.

No light is me.
I am a shadow of unrighteousness, that follows the thundering clouds and strikes might against the ground...
Hoping for someone to feel my pain.
Solemnly hoping...to send a welcoming glimmer of hope in the darkness.

No flesh is me.
Dirtied.
Unclean.
I lie bare and naked, stripped by the blood of those who come and devour the shards of my heart...

But I do not lie awake.

Nothing is me.
I am nothing.
Everything is worthless...
Everything is nothing.

I am worthless...worthless...

Worthless.