Know-It-All

What
doesn’t
kill me
might
make
me
stronger

But
it
also
makes
me
sick

So
shove
your
aphorisms
up
your
arse

You
condescending
prick

‘Silence Like A Cancer Grows…’

Back here alone

In this room again

With the darkness

My old friend

Praying for someone

My wounds to tend

Ever hopeful

This pain will end