Piles of crickets in my gut chattered like peasants again
Straight to my heart of pebbles—crashing whole as a full speed train
Every second ticks like a passing in hell
A long winding pit that only those who've gone could tell

Limb by limb I am restrained by an invisible force
Keeping me chained to illusions,leading to an undesired course
I am at the mercy of the shadows that sprang like weeds from inside me
Sweeping me stolen like a forest with not even one solitary tree

They tell me to laugh it off like a drunken's joke
To push on with what is left of my cursed yoke
If I cut myself in pieces they'll hang their mouths open instead
For they'll stop it with the "it is all just in her head"

The sun that warms me vital has long been eclipsed in my vision
In this blanket of sadness, there is only growing oblivion
I'd like to rise some more but how can I? I am the battle
There is nothing to see here except for me to be reduced in a rubble

It ***** to be a realist. To know that the world can be terrible and at the same time be filled with the possibilities of the wonderful. And then there's you, the poor realist, who somehow has all this truth and hope and idea of everything black and white, good or bad. So you build up this fear inside you, this pain that everything can go either ways of opposing extremes and there's nothing you can do about it except go on  and live with both sides.

I looked hard at the lake
Saw a villain from within
I caved in the existential murkiness
To question all that rots, all that wrecks
The heart of the unknown
Is both wonder and disgust

My breathing is an orchestra
The dissonance is unbelievable
Almost blasphemous
Some creatures nip at my fleshy mortality
I wonder how they tasted me

The cold calls me with ordinary gesture
I say my greetings to the other side with pleasure
Asphyxiation desensitized me with ******* rhyme
As the romantic swell of death settles

There is no god to claim me
I am the reason for everything
That I am
No more and nothing else