Devour In Silence

The time has come again, where there feels as if there is nothing left inside. Here I sit drowning in doubt and self-reflection, wondering exactly when I lost myself and how far away I drifted before I realized that I was lost. I don't even know what is real anymore... it's like this sickness that rots my brain has consumed every fiber of my being. I am living in the ethereal with nothing tangible to grasp... bloated and floating as the whalers prod at me with their pointy spears. Am I awake or is this what dying is... watching yourself sink deeper and deeper away until there is nothing left. Silently screaming as I squander and murder everything that crosses my path. I devour worlds but I prefer to slowly rot and be picked at by the vultures... ego and pride or perhaps they are better known as the id and lust. Either way, it's done by my own hand... in the end there is no one left to blame but myself. I was living in this dream that somehow things would magically shift into a better place... a place of light and serenity. I don't even know if you are real anymore. Perhaps I was just so lonely all that time ago, that I just created the ideal person to reach out to... someone that would try to understand and listen to me. No one ever listens to me, they just nod and chalk it up to some delusion or some type of rambling... perhaps I have no voice to be heard. I adore the quiet, but I despair in the silence... silence can be deafening with all of those taunts and mockery. I have no evidence that I didn't dream you into existence... all I had was faith and hope. With my good intentions came a price too high to be met and the well of my strength have run dry. Everything is still and silent here... so silent. I sit here and trim my wick, but I am nearly out of wax...