SelfPub: I stick with control ...

I stick with controlling emotions and will.
With a melancholy, smoke and eternal decline.
With regret, worn until the wounds and blisters
And with a yearning that became something akin to fever.
I have to get used to their false roles:
This hypocrisy in the smile and to the skin in the "patches".
To these thoughts that the love - thirst of pain;
That I'm empty I'm weak.
And what I'm not okay.