I Am The Beast At The End

Please. Don’t Switch Off My Mind By Attempting To Straighten Me Out. Listen And Understand, And When You Feel Contempt Don’t Express It, At Least Not Verbally, At Least Not To Me.

I Love You Still, Against My Will.

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

It Is Myself I Have Never Met Whose Face Is Pasted On The Underside Of My Mind

I Feel Like I’m Eighty Years Old. I’m Tired Of Life And My Mind Wants To Die.