I am a well, almost dry, from which no lasting life has sprung.
I am an object of no desire.
I am a short and miscalculated sum.

I give no comfort; joyless, for I am an empty ***.
The numbness never passes.
I am a fire that burns, but never gets hot.

And I will take the blame,
For it’s all that I see offered me.

No matter your perspective, or the strength of your connections,
In the dark,
In the silence,
We are all of us alone.

If you’re part of a collective, if you share strong predilections,
Whether hopeful,
Whether hateful,
We’re, in all our truth, alone.

And I will take the blame,
For it’s all that I see offered me.

I no longer bend.
I only break.
I see no further
Steps to take.
And every thought
Seems a mistake.

And I will take the blame,
For it’s all that I see offered me.

I never got to know me,
And now there’s little of me left.
But I cannot cry injustice,
Or brutality, or theft.

It was merely that I hid behind
Whatever I could find.
And how could I think to reach myself
When I’ve never really known my mind.

I know he loves me, though I know not why.
And the voice inside is cruel and cold.
I scrape it out. It builds again.
I create new wounds out of those that are old.

And I will take the blame,
For it’s all that I see offered me.

My words are wrong.
My thoughts are wrong.
My perspective is a mess of sand.

I can’t **** the parts selectively,
But I can **** it all,
Or else make it bland.

And I will take the blame,
For it’s all I ever could see offered me.