Stagnant.

When life gave me playgrounds, 
I turned them into cemetaries gray, 
sentencing all signs of life to eternal decay. 

Trampled on flowers, then willed them to wilt, 
buried my brilliance beneath blankets of guilt. 

I poisoned myself until I was numb, 
safe from the specter that I'd become. 

Set myself on fires started by sorrow,
tortured by the terror of unknown tomorrows. 

Afraid of accepting that I am to blame,
averting my gaze as my future's swallowed by flames.

The inevitable can only be deterred for so long,
until it returns with a vengeance and robs my spirit of song.

The thought of progress makes my wrinkled heart race,
anxiety steals the smile right from my face.

My calm is replaced with crippling doubt,
as destiny derails turning silence to shouts.

Carnivals from my past reveal the cancer they masked, 
rotten from asbestos and littered with empty flasks.

This wasteland cannot sustain oxygen,
so I bury my head in the sand, concealing the pain I'm in. 

Corrosive; acid leaks from my alkaline pores,
yet I remain apathetic and let it pour onto the water damaged floor.

Nostalgic for the days when I used to try,
instead of this era emphasized by detrimental war crimes. 

Devoid of myself, I risk it all then rinse and repeat,
until I am submerged and drowning in the depths of my own defeat.

Burdened by insecurities that rip at me like birds of prey,
i fall apart, and fall to pieces, fulfilled as failure feasts for one more day.