fallen into a loop
a cycle of repeated
transitional disaster
not sleeping
unable to think
burning myself out
by pushing myself
too far past the brink
of my home made
self-extinction fantasy

is it suicide
working yourself
to death yet never
having anything to show
but a sore back
bloody knuckles
when the only
external stimuli
is debt collectors
like ticks on a stag

shouting into the
echo chamber of hastily
scrawled inspirational
quotes espoused by
those that will never knew
a day of peaceful succor
ever onward through
the slaughterhouse
waiting frantically for
the air hammer’s kiss

fallen into a loop
this cyclical trap
of circular logic
trying to convince myself
it has to get better
sinking ever lower
as the truth of it all
the hopeless madness
in belief that this
is all there is to life

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