I am nothing but a corpse
A being with no soul
I wonder through the nights alone
Looking for a
Purpose.
But I do not find
That for which I do not slumber.
I stumble on for endless nights
And trek exhaustedly through scorching days.
I have discovered a great and many things about
myself and the world.
The most important of those being that I am
usless
I will always
hurt
and that I must eternally
suffer alone.
For I am but a corpse.
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Finger Trigger
PoetryA book of poems mainly written about suicide and other depressing things