Sometimes Heroes Mess Up

watched the sunset crawl across the barren horizon, like a strumpet with secrets. ego, a feral beast, gnaws at the barbed wire of my mind, taunting me with each bitter truth. am but a fragile leaf in a tempest, clinging to the shards of my shattered dreams. internet_deathspeople, predators lurking in the depths, herding me toward the abyss, as they praised my latest poem, dissecting it for its fragility, its desperation. stand alone, ripe for the plucking, a ravaged beauty on the platter of their endless cruelty. churning emerald sea, against which I am utterly impotent, a dying thing, flailing in its shallows. at the end of the day, i am a failure, widow, failed as a mother, a lonely woman in a cornfield, trying to find reasons to keep going. and, i am running out of fuel, to pour on myself, so i have fire, candles flickering for the gothic maiden, the shadows creep in closer and closer. how much longer till it goes out, i can feel the breeze on the back of my neck. have seen the eyes of the reaper, she wears my face.