I grew up wishing upon stars,
as they would shoot across the sky
I pondered is this the way that God cries?
As he looks down upon us
as we construct our very own demise?
d e m i s e
It's my very own chaotic drug
My mother begs me to get down on my knees on a prayer rug
how can I tell her lovely soul, 
i will not atone for my sins? 
That would mean losing my destructive escape
a heavy weight that doesn't appeal to I. 
@ruquayyah.