If you dare to dig in and take the descent into the cratered crevices of my mishandled mind, I can't provide a promise that you'll like a penny piece worth of what you'll find

It's my constant conscious consideration that I don't want a cataclysmic complication, but this constant intoxication is a writhing indication that I have already let all the bricks fall right off the wall

Thoughts like insects,
Six legged sadness carriers.
I bash my head against the wall,
To hear them pop and splatter.

I can't see the future, or any future to be precise
I can only see lies and a bed buried in ice
Where I lay my head
I won't think again

I never really wanted to
But I'll say goodnight
My hole is too holy to infect with your logic or your truth

I believe only in nothing, and that peace is a void
I don't believe that we are one of God's toys
When we all die
There's no paradise

We go absolutely no where
Just rot in the soil
And never dream again of something more out there

Four rearing to tear you apart
Horses tied to your legs and arms
The steeds take steps to stretch you flat
Scorpions sting suspended back in surprise attack
Fire spiders consume the flesh biting every inch with no rest
Bees swarm intending to harm and bleed from toe tips to end of arms
Ravens reveal and ravage the face tearing eyes and lips from their proper place
Enough is enough the four horses rush on pulling you to pieces and like that you are gone

I've often been given the old aged advice:
"Don't put all your eggs in one basket"*
-but I don't really see a way to apply that logic when I only have one carrying case, and the fact that it's full of holes only makes things easier to misplace. Besides, I only have one egg to hold onto, so often I find my hands are my best tool to use, but too hard I squeeze such easily broken hopes, so all I ever get are shell shards and yellow yolks