Automatic, numbing

Tonight is quiet.
I am sitting still, breathing.



In.



And out.



I do not feel the blood flowing through me.



I know that this is no means,
for there is no end to ever be seen.
I know that these letters do not mean anything.
Jumbled, put together; they are nothing.
This is obscene!
My hair is turning sea-weed green.
I am turning into something noticeably unclean.
No one can stop now the automatic, numbing machine.