there's no future, no past
nothing but a feeling spreading through
it's a weight without words
and the silence is crushing you
wishes of ways to say what you mean
memories of places that you'd rather be
walls created only to be torn down
built for the people you want to keep around
a book that's impossible to read
no vaccine for the disease
a familiar voice running through your head
"this is meant to hurt you" is the only thing it ever says
questions to an answer
that you'll never know
if you really believe in heaven
the why are you so afraid to go?