i can’t smile

or pretend

and i have no place to go.

there are no people

and certainly

no games.

goals are long gone

in the great heap

of whatever i might’ve been.

there’s no distraction

and every day hurts

and all I’ve come out with

is that final seal

that was hidden for years

in the background,

but is now branded

onto my useless soul.

ive been praying though,

i don’t know whether

to god or the devil,

but it’s all about

anaesthetic now

until that measly

desire i have left

comes

and closes the book.