Pandoras box is in my hands the temptation is flourishing

My vitality is slowing turning to dust Im in need of spiritual nourishing

My values have disappeared and must be reintegrated

Hope for vulnerablity has disintegrated

Protecting myself by staying a distance

internally decomposing my existence

Struggling to deviate from my distructive walls I created

Before my exsitance becomes meaningless, unattached, unrelated

I thought I was saving my self from a painfull phenom

Instead of saving myself I was slowly overtaken by lethal doses of venom



I cant figure out were Im suppose to put my poems.
I should have some new art soon.