Mortification is better than regret
You keep trying to tell me
All I hear is that my life has been a waste.
How long do I keep making the jokes?
I furiously nod,
This is not enough, not for you, not for us
This is not enough,
Where is the rock that ties me to life?
My taste has become mediocre and I accept it
With half-opened arms at best
I enjoy a barely clever book
And I hate myself.
Is growing simple that easy?
Now that I am quite simpled out
Where is my untextured joy?
Will you understand if I took a bite out of my brain
Enjoy it like a pudding
Before I go to sleep
Waste away completely
Will you know what it means to be not?