Help me mother. Please take me home. This looks like my home but it is not my home.
The atoms are the same but the way my brain sees them isn't. It's a different energy flow.
I want to scream. I want to cry. I want someone to hold me and tell me it'll be alright.
But first I must go home. There's a way. There's always a way.
I know my blood must look like my blood, it's got to. It does. I feel my world seeping back through the cracks I've created.
I know I do bad things. I know it all.
