The End?

Nothing feels the same anymore
I don't feel the same
Maybe it's because I just don't feel anymore

Anger used to be what kept me going
Resentment, hostility, hatred
I would feed off the misfortune of others
And refuel my hate-filled tank on that of my own

Now all I feel is sorrow and hopelessness
And oddly enough, I'm content with that
I think...
Or maybe not
Maybe this calm and collected attitude I show everyone
Is to disguise how shit scared I really am
I'm sick of writing
It's becoming monotonous
Like life