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.