I open my hands,
To reach for sincerity,
But find only barbs.

We go to others;
Hoping, praying, begging, please –
The line disconnects.

Just keep faith, they say,
But trusting faith never works.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stop.

The world only takes.
It rewards the worst of us.
I hate my landlord.

I hate far too much.
I carry this bile in me,
I poison my well.

Does anyone know
What the point of it all is
When, at best, we die.

There is nothing new, 
It has all been seen before.
We are just echoes.

Echoes on deaf ears,
Originality gone,
Sights land on blind eyes.

Self consuming self,
Vanity, vanity, I,
Exist to exist.

But why do we place
A premium on worthless 
Things like origin.

Is telling the point?
When the telling is hurtful, 
Is living the point?

Just talk to yourself,
About yourself, by yourself,
For only, yourself.