i don't know what i keep on feeling, it's like a burning rage calling death. i sometimes wish i'd stop breathing and tend to fantisize about taking my last breath. this feeling of mine is quite dark, it is wild. it is like the devil that stole an innocent child. this feeling of mine is a monter, it is a crook. it is the demon carrying my book. this feeling sheds no mercy, has no heart. it and jealousy cannot be apart. this feeling has no title i call it it. it is a ruthless soul that belongs in a pit.

new update.