But if only
for a moment of time.
You could take a walk inside my heart.
To gaze upon the feelings I've been conjuring up for you.

Excuse me,
while I step out of my mind.
I'd like to be
any where but here.

Wasting away is just surrendering to the pendelums curse.

Sometimes you're swinging
forward and everything's like magic.

While other times,
you can feel your heart slowly stopping,
like a broken dream.
Crushed by the hammer we call reality.

Revelations that I am nothing more than the trash.
I never wanted to be.

I've fallen in rivers colder than you.
Under all the sorrow, there is a monster.
Much worse than me.
The ghost of you.

A shadow of the light you once were.

Life's swell;
when you're drowning
at the bottom of a wishing well.

In the company of your most guarded thoughts.
Burried emotional, traumas.

A crown, I'd rather not claim as my own.
I'm just passing time until it's time to go home.

Shocking similarities of today, pull the trigger.
Flashbacks of my days spent here yesterday.
I'm lost in the wrong place at the wrong time.
If you were here and they were gone.

Guess I'm parasitic by nature, I'll find my way back to you.
Long after the maggots got the best of me.

I've seen what happens
after all of this.
Desolate, perpetual darkness.
With a sea of fog and nameless voices of people I used to be.
Directional guidelines for my final adventure.

Four minutes felt like fourty years.
And to be fair, I'm annoyed the nurses woke me up.

It was nice, speaking with you again.
Even if you told me to go back home.
To which I came.
Ironic though, you were my first home.

I'd rather not play;
my royal flush in
Pitty party poker.

Like a subordinate subboxin user.
Apparent cleanliness, washed out by legal addiction dysphoria.

Keep swimming.
It's easy to be king
of ttash mountain.
Just ask the president.

I've seen those on their third
chance.
Chastise those in the same shallow waters. They once called home.

Denial is one hell of a drug.
And it's legal.

I'd rather be in isolation station.
For, living is worse than dying.
In my eyes, I'm just looking for a shade of grey.

I hope you suffer,
wounds deeper than
emotional scars beneath the dermal layer.

You're truely not worth the air,
you consume.
A zealot. Heretic turned holy.
An abomination hiding behind closet alcoholism.

I'd hate to be your  liver.