an oldy, just finished

As i hit the floor one more time, i remember all the other times i thought this was the end, my end, his send, but no, i know now the truth that this is just the end of another day, the next will come, and i'll be there myself unfortunatly, the same thing it always is, wake up in my own putrid stench of maybe tommorow, i won't have to hold it in" what reason do i really have to do anything with my life, i'll just let others use me to their own means, but this my safe haven...home, horrendous... home, no one sees what's become of myself all they see is what they've twisted me into, vile and broken, worn in, out spoken .... my breakfast the same thing i had for supper last week.... or lunch...... or is it even mine, it's there and i'm here, so here we are. a pack of twisted leaves beside me, a flame to kindle, burn, inhale, burn away the morning blues the darks greys brights whites reds and hughes, make my morning yours, you already had last night, or was it then? it doesn't matter, never did, this is what i've become now, a life that made me this "what to do today..." i never know how to answer this question it's as far as i ever get, i go i am gone, outside, the trees the leaves, breeze and blow in out and flow, my lungs fill and blow my mind flies and glows i know it shows, don't care... who's there? they don't care. even there they sit and stare and where do they think they are going? do they know, do they know that i don't?.... i don't.... care, who really cares what i've become?.... who really knows?.... no one knows, at least what shows.... my poison friend, are you really that bad, make me happy make me glad at least what i've had.... i'm armour clad invincible and untouched by the things around me and such, i remain myself but not my own i remain in place but not at home, as i return to my dweeling my hollow my hell, i live in this world a dweller and life but i'm not my own, this thin balanced knife, feed the addiction cutting the meat, i'm walking deathly, still breathing, blood heat. but i am not living this homes lost it all, i'm dark when i fall this is my dwelling my cradle of filth i'm living i'm breathing but i'm not quit myself, i'm not all my own i'm living, not home i'm dead in my heart and now it is known, this cradle of filth i now call my home.