I want to start this out by saying
What if I mess this up?
I've lost what made me so sane.
And my ties to this earth have left me.
At this point how can I even consider?
I've become so latin and so bitter.
I know she wants to see the good in me.
But I've been rotting in a shell for a thousand years.
So please just let this work.
Because I'm tired of the tears.

You wanna know me?
Well that's just great.
On second thought I think I'll stay here,
And emancipate.
From this cage filled so thick
With millions of lies that chose to be disguised as flying birds staring at the outside.
Wishing for escape.
Well lay that to rest my dearest
Because the way it's going right now,
You'll never be set free.

Honestly I wish I was the same.
Despite all our rough battles and loves bitter dismay.
I just may have forgotten who I am.
Just a former shell of the ghost hidden within.
I've become a monster.
Riddled with thick skin.

Possibilities.
Are endless they say.
But is that true with so little time waisting away?
I am not only words but also a man.
A man with so few expressions to feed life's demands.
How can I review such crucial day view?
When I am yet exploring the possibilities set by a few.

Fill... Fill... Set back... Fill...
Life has become a repeat.
Of past anomalies and tremendous defeat.
Fill. Fill. Set back. Empty?
The things I come cross everyday.
Which are new to me in every way.
Fill me with new content to stay.
In my mind for just one day.
Full...
With no new knowledge to learn.
One can only yearn.
For more 'unknown days' to pass and lay here waisting away on soft grass.

New surroundings surrounded by infinite bodies
Im soaring I'm floating and free
I'm crowded the halls all flooded with disease.
I'm drowning faster than I can sink
My bodies deceased yet my mind set free
New school fills my thoughts so much I ought to organize these thoughts
Yet here I lay surrounded
Forgot drowned by the ones I know not yet but I live I love to find these unknown factors
And put them to rest
In my head.

If I did exist then show me a sign,
otherwise I might resign for incomplete parts do not make a whole.
They only fill a bottomless pit which is fed by the toll as others around me come and go.
Filling my soul with an unbearable void.
Designed to cage and trap, the things inside of me that fill the gap.
If I'm made of spare parts doesn't that make me incomplete?