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Real fear.
Makes me throw up.
I'd die now, just to ease your, blathering.

Time to...dissipate.
Consider yourself, victorious.
Now, return, to whatever you, were the mistake to not be.
Because you are, afraid to die. May your eternity, lasts.
I didn't even plan that. Maybe you are just too sensitive, psycho.
I simply, have not received and so

You are now, truly seen, barely saving yourself, barely feeling, and in the end

In denial of yourself, never truly, gave anything, not even to yourself.

And I, I am simply, never here. Not my dreams. Here we are, and the ungiver, receives, nothing. Bound only, by its own, desire
Maybe simply, the last. And In this, the only.

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