I am exhausted of being criticized,
their harshly intensified demeanor, makes me paralyzed.
It seems like a never ending process,
my jaded soul refuses to express.
Smashed to smithereens,
my soul is subjected to quarantine.
I lie prostrated on the bottom of the pool of life,
wondering about the afterlife.
Hell is considered to be lamentable,
for me it is frequent-able.
I conjecture death to be peaceful,
as it is an escape from the world – full of chaos.
I dine with the demons every night,
for I cannot flee from their organs of sight.
They have attacked my mind,
and so it remains confined.
My body remains the same,
just a little belly fat tends to accumulate.
They condemn me as I am different,
as my distinctness, makes them sentient.
They have haunted me for years,
they have attacked me with the help of smears.