another.
the door opens. the door closes. no answer. none expected. a hunger grows in me, so great my stomach begins to eat its self. a pain that can't be explained is some how welcome. no known cure other than time. one more night passed one less night to face. alone. i lock the door even though i want to leave again. the reality is crule. Changing doesn't do anything other than replace slightly worn with worn out. beat and batterd from the previous 15 hours with no end in sight. Intellegence brings knowledge, and the knowlege brings more suffering. life will drain through the feet and into the floor boards. .... day is done, gone the sun. another soilder lays at rest.
i hope one day it turns out happy. untill then, fuck it.
i hope one day it turns out happy. untill then, fuck it.