By Jamie Howton, 2013
I dig myself holes, the blackest of emotional oubliettes that I willingly and repeatedly climb down into.
No light penetrates.
No love is perceivable.
The end is right there.
I wallow in my own despair, my own sorrow, my own anguish this is a poisonous place, it doesn’t support real life.
I masturbate my emotional state using these things for inspiration (lubrication).
I seek desperately to drag you down to my level, I use guilt as a tool. “Pity me, I am wretched” is the common refrain in that pit of self flagellation.
I am despair.
I am anguish.
I am sorrow.
I am full of shit.
My father taught me these things.
This is what he knows.