Requins

Diseased Brain

This blue cloth smells of must and I'm nearing starvation in these four walls.

I feel something crawling around in my mind and I can't get it out

I feel it in my eyelids in in my wrists and along my spine

and its all your fault, you have no clue what your words,

that you throw together so

haphazardly

do inside my head,

They multiply

and they poison the flesh of my brain

and you turn your back

and forget so fucking easily

what you said

and if you honestly think

that an apology is going to fix anything

I'd rather not hear your voice at all.