Purple skies above my roof
Windows streaked with golden hues
A gorgeous day not spent outside
I’ll probably die alone in here.
My eyes see grey and blurry shapes
My food is bland and tasteless waste
A shower does not warm my soul
But it does help me get more sick, gee thanks.
I cannot use the kitchen sink
The front door handle slips and squeaks
Everything is broken down
The world is ending, I hate my life.
Nothing matters anymore
I slip onto unfeeling floors
Sigh, moan, expect to die
I’ll be a rotting corpse this time tomorrow.
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