I am a nobody wanting to be even more Nothing
But wanting is a wrong term as total throughout
anhedonia has burned out all my aspiration
What is left of me here is still living sensory organs
hiding neurons firing blanks inside my organic cage
A black film covers every inch of my perception
I see but I do not comprehend anything
I don't know if I even think anymore
What I think are my thoughts are locked into
repetive serrated neurotic patterns
and even though what used to be myself
doesn't really even exist anymore
I sort of know some form of "I" still exist somehow
Though I've become spectaculary nothing
I've become my own prison cell