My mind shall whir on and on

About myself and my wretched future

Spinning tales of lie and fables

Till I won’t even want a future

I’m sick of knowing where I’ll end and where I’ll start

The same old tale repeating itself

Over and over again

Make it stop!

I’ve grown to hate myself for my rapidly whirring brain

I’m so predictable and my acts perceived before action

Who perceives my actions but myself? It is me and just myself

I loathe my existence while jotting down what my brain says

Command me, beloved mind

I’ve grown to call myself names

Wish what is worse than death on my very self

Bore sleepless nights with hopeless thoughts

And wept tears of loneliness in frustrated agony

Who I appear to be

Is not what I perceive to be