I am thirsty for silence in my own house.
Sick as a dog I await peoples departure hoping they will be startled by my upholding grimace.
I hate everyone when I can not breathe, my not breathing is common, and yet people still have yet to learn I want to be left alone.

My friends are leaving constantly as the void with in me grows more furious.
I suppose the reason for my sickness lies between this growth and the constant drinking I have called upon to numb the burning with in me.

I must apologize for by bitterness, perhaps I could appreciate the sunshine outside if I could breathe. But breathing became more and more impossible when I realized this is the last of the this kind of life.