Tag Archives: loser

Doubt Is Failure By Design

We’re born to fuck everything up, I guess.

No one asked for this. I’m like a festering scar on the dysfunctional mind of a starving shark who mercilessly shoved me overboard, and my flailing limbs are weighed down with rocks and paralysed with guilt, with shameful culpability, with the handed-down heirloom of a cursed name—a mere letter and punctuation away from completely unpronounceable—come now, black sheep, where’s your fucking wool?

Absolutely deplorable. Every success-story sycophant resolutely cringes away as if touched by the devil’s acid itself, their gold-plated stomachs turning at the mere mention of us, rolling diamond eyes watering viciously at the sight of our squalid hands reaching out to extinct stars and begging for a shred of respite, if any at all, overfed jesters laughing like relentless hyenas at the classic repertoire of victimised beggars choosing to be losers. No change. No mercy. Miserable. We asked for it, didn’t we?

I take a single step into the path I meticulously measured before finally deeming to be correct, and end up breaking somebody’s weak spine instead; clumsy foot easily slicing through vertebrae like a sharpened sword through snowfall. Another mistake. Another cautionary tale. I hear my dead ancestors wail a steady plangent caterwaul, as they eternally scream and admonish me from beyond the depths of inferno and then perhaps some—from where I shall soon be sharing their fate as I join in with their ever-familiar sickly cries. Another generation. Another bad blood. It’s almost comforting, now.

Oh, well. We fucking saw it coming and let it happen anyway, didn’t we?

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Filed under Prose

trapped in my headcase

i’m stuck

all alone

with my mind

to torture me

to prod needles

behind my eyelids

and call me a

worthless failure

a fucking loser

and every other

insult that i’ve

heard a million times

before already.

i want to jump off

the window of

this speeding bus

and run away

from my friends,

from my family,

from everything

and everyone

that i ever failed—

including myself…

but i just can’t.

so instead of that,

i’m stuck here

with my cruel mind

playing tricks on

my worthless self,

gritting my teeth and

telling me lies

as i’m just silently

screaming and

hating myself because

i believe it’s all

fucking true.

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Filed under Poetry