On days like these, my muse hides underneath the clouds of my | Paraphernalic Thoughts

On days like these, my muse hides underneath the clouds of my misery.
On days like these, my spirit enters an inescapable flux of perplexity and uncertainity,
On days like these, my mind tears itself apart and lets inside the diabolic henchmen of seth,
On days like these, logic fails to work with the optimism I have learned to garner,
On days like these, the god of chaos shines light upon the inevitable destruction I am bound to meet,
On days like these, my heart withers as my brain kills itself.

On days like these, I scar myself
On days like these, I scream until my vocal cords rupture,
On days like these, I sleep with the hope of not waking up.