(WE'RE ALL BORN ALONE, WE ALL DIE ALONE.)
ANGER.
IT FUELS MY VEINS, BURIES ITSELF IN MY TONGUE
I SPEAK- OR TRY TO- BUT LIFE IS AS DEATH IS
A CIRCLE, A WHOLE.
A QUIET PLACE FOR THINKING
WHAT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME
DEATH IS CRUEL AND UNFAIR AND IT
BURNS MY LIMBS
LIKE A WILDFIRE SPREADING
THROUGH THE WOODS
OF MY HEART
I CLENCH MY FISTS
LIKE I NEVER DID
AND I DRAIN MY BLOOD
ONTO THE FLOOR
I POUR MY SOUL OUT
AND EMPTY MY EYE SOCKETS
FOR I WILL NOT NEED THEM
IN THIS RAGE
I'M FEELING.
I DISSOLVE
INTO THE FLOOR
AND I SCREAM.
I SCREAM LIKE I NEVER GOT TO
WHEN I WAS ME
WHEN I WAS STUCK
IN A CIRCLE
GOING ROUND
AND ROUND
(AND ROUND
AND ROUND
AND)
(DEATH IS A QUIET PLACE FOR THINKING)
SO I SCREAM AGAIN.
CLAUSTROPHOBIC MEMORIES IN A CLAUSTROPHOBIC SHELL OF
REGRETS AND
ANGER
I CAN'T STAND TO THE SIDE AS I ALWAYS DO IF
ALGAE WRAPS ITSELF AROUND MY LEGS
AROUND MY LUNGS.
I STUMBLE BACK AGAINST THE WAVES
THAT TRY TO DROWN ME
AND DEATH SITS NEXT TO ME
ONE LAST TIME
I REPLAY IT IN MY HEAD
FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY
THAT I'M MEANT TO BE STUCK IN
I DID EVERYTHING I SHOULD
SO WHY
NO ONE LIVES FOREVER.
(BUT I SHOULD'VE)
