One day, this world will break you
and when it does
you will never be ready
you will never be mended
and you will cease to believe;
although you may never admit it.
You will spend the rest of your days either in denial of the abyss at your center,
wearing a smile like paint poured out upon a sepulchre,
you will knowingly fall deeper into the squalor of existence,
embracing the black malevolence of your being,
casting light upon the cosmic joke of human consciousness,
gnashing your teeth at each new passing day,
cursing the insistence of the future,
and hoping for the sweet oblivion of pure nothingness.
you will never be whole,
you will never be well,
never at peace,
never at rest,
never at ease.