Untitled 13-11-04

Trembling at the end of my daily self-abuse
Empty desire leaking from my body
I forget the regret I feel after each time
The self-hate that permeates my soul.

The stagnant water reeks of my sin
Cold and lifeless, clear reflection
I'll never understand the empty pleasure
The unholy ritual that I partake in.

My body is alive, but only for few seconds
Precious time lost again forever
When the pleasures fade and I am alone
I am left with nothing but the hate.

- 13/Nov/2004


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A little out of order but I went back and decided to post this one too.
Not too hard to get what this poem's about.
Even though it's in the midst of a bunch of poems from before my style changed, I actually like how this one turned out.