Guess You Were Right

Guess you were right about my cowardice
Arrogant, flaccid, talentless
Scarred and bloated, hopeless
Pompous mind full of potent bullshit
Suspicious of smiles, lazy, distrusting
Wasted flesh, good for nothing
Tears down relationships, builds up walls
Bury my phone in the sand to avoid the calls
Unsociable loner, downer, groaner
In every space an out-of-towner
In every face that one blemish
Everyday cancer, societal haemorrhage 
Suicide fetish, self-harm dropout
Heart is a vacuum, a wasteland, a drought
Criticises others with no jurisdiction
A lack of personality better suited to fiction
Nothing is warm, nothing is homely
How can I hate people and still be lonely?
Does it all matter, is life even a factor?
​Here's to turning the final chapter