Ghostly Sonnets

Soon dead, and gone.

Lately, I could hear clear as day sirens going off on the inside of my head. Depression along with isolation committed another crime. I could hear static of a faint whisper that speaks
"There's no end to their malice spree."
All my life they've had the riches influence to inflict so badly on me that no matter where I go they're always there. From being stuck at home, long walks, sidewalks, parks, and stores. Now I clearly see that there's no escape or ever was. I am mentally not here anymore, but my own self reflection, a shadow. I no longer have gas to function properly anymore. I'm exhausted and I'm physically tired for feeling tired. Theirs times where I lay in bed and just stare at my ceiling with thoughts of being actually happy. Maybe happiness isn't for all of us to feel. Or maybe I wasn't supposed to be blessed with happiness, I am gods human waste of a fuck up who has the worst luck of everyone.
"I just hope my death makes more cents than my life."