In my bleaker moments
I get a peek
At the obvious hopelessness
Of everything
Of existence
The horrible void
How dull it all is on the surface
How dull it still is a few layers down
Digging deeper for naught
Just feels like masturbation
What is right, or good, or real
Is anything there outside my own mind
Is it even worth the bother
Who am I even writing this for
And who do I think will care.
Not a fucking soul.