I'm ready to leave here.
Her eyes, her mouth, her breath,
they despise me.
They loathe me.
Ready for exile,
I will be pushed from June
and into the arms of July.
I will lay there
until I suffocate,
spores taking over my body,
the ocean of the sighing
forest floor choking me,
waiting in wretched harmony.
I'll be dreaming of yesterday
as the claws of tomorrow
tear my body to pieces.