Wrong size.

Human sacrifice is still out there.  Sometimes it happens and there isn't even any blood.  Have you ever met someone who loved to commit social suicide?  Yeah.... I know.  You can stop shaking your head now.  The saddest thing about social suicide is that it rarely gets the intended point across.  It usually only leaves the one committing the act looking like an unstable twit, unaware of the people around them.  It's almost funny how selfish it comes across.  Oh shit can you tell I like watching people do this?  Well I'm going to stop writing before further evidence that I'm a rotten guy pops out.  Oh by the way, I'm a huge fan of the "slow poisoning by death" style of social suicide, but I'm definitely not the kind of person to do something like that....    I seem like a expert on matters of social suicide?  I don't like that question.. I don't like you either... are you trying to say that there is SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME?!?!  Sorry.  That was just a test.  Just a test.  It's really all it was.  Now read this poem.  It's definitely about no one you know.
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WRONG SIZE

Helplessly bleeding out,
Relentlessly.
No one here can help.

This fountain of life
Only leads to your death.
A death of your own accord.
But an onlooker's doubt
At assumed selfish morbidity
Will solve nothing.
In reverse, there is still no guarantee.

Hours of quiet,
Painful, preparation
Went into assuring captivation
Of the same little, "Unluckies".
They bear witness
For the thousandth time.
This confused consciousness,
A sort of attemptless attempt
At an already obvious problem.

The lid to your jar is too large.
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