The loneliness of heave

[Baker]

An icicle of pain
As a brick of thought shatters the surface
Heiroglyphics of confusion
Turning my infuriation insane
It is a result of being hopeful
and believing that I wouldn't get hurt
my hope is my agitation
which came from frustration first

I fuck away the pain
with attachment to worldly beings
Extract it out, without a doubt
as the devil buys my soul.
The drugs eradicate my woes, my anxieties so foul
As I let my attractions turn away from procreation
into a world of chaos, right into deaths mouth

I don't understand the meaning of life, if not to reproduce
Which is why it confuses me, when I only let the same gender seduce
Maybe my role is chaos
Eccentricity so queer
Someone take this weight off
so I can die without fear

A cell rapidly multiplies when it has an advantage over another
I feel I could well be, the antithesis of my mother.
A cure for cancer, I don't procreate, I learn to die alone.
My role may provide the answer,
For others who choose to depart earth on their own

 

[New]

Confusion, desperation, acceptance...very powerful stuff.

I enjoyed reading it.

 

[(Wordy)]

A cell rapidly multiplies when it has an advantage over another

This is the most interesting part for me... maybe you could consider expanding on this idea and weaving it in with your themes: arriving at this dark realisation while in a state of desperation?

 

[Baker]

cheers for the advice.
The poem wasn't so much about desperation, as it was just about confusion and inequality among evolution in and out of my own life/perspectives.