An early grave

Bored and alone
I eat the greyness
I am so tired
All of the time
Days seep into night
Night slips into morning
Dew stands white on blades of grey grass
I find that joy, colour and life left me at last
In my head I am insane
In my mind a chasm opens
Vomiting sweet sweet nothing
But to me now
I will not die mourning
I race round the house
I see things in a morbid glare
I run a finger down the scissors
Every step is made with care
I watch the insects gather
They plot my sick demented demise
I reflect in their vision
Nothing to the masses eyes
The whisper in the mirror
‘smash me into shards of flesh’
Skin coloured slivers in a grey and cold world
I finally have enough
Far too much to bear
I leave my torment behind
As my audience just stands and stares
I drive out in my dull chrome car
Bleak horizon beckons
The land gives way to expanse of illness
Nothing in this boundary
I am finally acting on impulse
Exhilarated but nothing shows
I grab the shovel and dig
Raining upon the sand my blows
Six feet deep and deeper
I truly have a place called home
Free from the audience of slaves
Finally at rest in an early grave