The nature of this weekend has relegated the majority of my journaling to my portable, so you all have to suffer through a lot of bad poetry. I mean damn. I'm just sorry. Really sorry. Sorry you're you, and suffering. Being me is still pretty cool, as always. Pulverized under lies I can't break free They're crushing me Incarcerated I've been sedated Feel constipated Can't get extricated
It's overwhelming I'm stifled I choke Feels awful Goes on And on Why won't the pain be gone.