I Wish I Was Dead Today.

I wish I was dead today,
but that’s like every day
(It repeats in my head like a fucking metronome).
I feel I’m lost, like I’m without a home.
I’m constrained in a snow globe
and it’s eternal winter.
It’s a never-ending snow storm,
I am buffeted and forlorn.
It’s a non-stop fire.
I’m stuck on the pyre.
I’m begging for mercy
but the flames get higher.
To beg on my knees is not a rare sight.
They’re bloody and dirty,
caught in a ceaseless landslide
And an unending typhoon
masks tears I no longer even try to hide
but they fall from my eyes and
transmute into hail.
This is my life. I cry. I wail.
Today’s weather is stormy, 
rain clouds brew in my head.
I’m deafened by thunder.
I wish I was dead.
Today.
Yesterday.
Tomorrow.
It’s a cyclical thought,
that pesters my mind and leaves me distraught.
I’m scared I’ll see it through, 
but really I’m not.
Because what is my future when
I’m robbed of the present.
I’m burdened by my past and I can’t regress it.

 

It’s flooding now, it’s filling my shoes.
My eyes are wet. I’m feeling the blues.
I’m angry at myself, I’m seeing red.
I wish I was calm, touched by the green.
But I’m entrapped in gloom, I feel so much purple. 
I don’t remember yellow. I’m colourblind to joy. 

Now all I can think is:
Hey, I wish I was dead today.