It’s quite a thing for us to have
A beating, working heart
To inhale, exhale, inhale again
As you fall spectacularly apart

For when you die according to
Any book I’ve read
Your heart goes still, your lungs deflate
To be considered dead

You shouldn’t feel the pulsing blood
Flow warmly through your veins
You shouldn’t walk and talk and think
Or feel such intense pain

There’s something so poetic
In being the walking dead
To be murdered so profoundly
On such an inconsequential bed

As dignity fell to the ground
Like a ***** takes of her clothes
Your body somehow betrays itself
And completely and utterly froze

So while you lay there dying
Your heart remains so strong
Your lungs- they keep on breathing-
It’s as though there’s nothing wrong

When the killing is finally finished
When the deed is finally done
The world slowed and hastened all at once
Into confused, oblivion

For how can you be breathing
When your life has come to an end?
When you’ve been so completely broken
There’s nothing left to even mend

But get up and walk you do
And inhale, exhale you must
Because, unfortunately, your heart must stop
For you to turn to dust


Like a ghost without the benefit
Of being properly dead
You inhale, exhale, all the while
With that memory in your head

Being undead hurts and numbs your
Senses simultaneously  
And your wounds bleed out in places
No one else can feel or see

Wake up, inhale, exhale, sigh
Pretend the same you still exists
But that girl is dead and gone
Even though her ghost persists

The world to me does not exist,
as now I only live in my bed,
sheets and blankets clenched in my fists,
waking up is now something I dread.
The world to me does not exist,
as I just previously said,
and they all say ignorance is bliss,
I had to clear room in my head.

I am just stuck in a rut,
a misery merry go round,
smoking each cigarette to the ****,
silence still making too much sound.

Travel on, keep your feet strong,
life is too short but still too long.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
with a mind of fire and a heart of coal.
I don't want to stop this,
no I don't want to wait,
fear of missing something to miss,
with a touch of hope of being too late.

The world to me does not exist,
the blue pill looked better than the red,
every hour lived is now on a list,
compiled with showering and being fed.
The world to me does not exist,
society is something I've always fled,
I've hid in the shadows and the mist,
and quietly I've always bled.

I am just stuck in a rut,
a misery merry go round,
with constant aches in my gut,
and lungs that have already drowned.

Travel on, keep your feet strong,
life is too short but still too long.
Travel on, keep your feet strong,
nothing is right and nothing is wrong.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
with a mind of fire and a heart of coal.
Rambling soul, you'll pay the toll,
you'll live your life and play your role.
I don't want to stop this,
no I don't want to wait,
fear of missing something to miss,
with a touch of hope of being too late.

I know it sounds crazy,
I know I'm such a drag,
I don't know if I'm just lazy,
or if routine is prone to lag.

I keep buying tickets for the lottery
though I'm told I already won.
with each gamble I hope to see,
a glimpse of blue skies and the sun.

When your life constantly knocks you down,
It’s hard to wear anything other than a frown.
I know I’m down, but am I out?
My whole being is filled with doubt.
I find myself slipping into the depths of rock bottom.
Will I be able to make it till autumn?
Something tells me that it doesn’t matter.
And every part of my mind is scattered.
So I guess all I can do is try to get out of this pit.
And try to make it another day but I know I won’t be missed.