I am the words on a tomb
Escaping my end
I am a crack in the room
That I won’t leave again
I’m a mistake in the womb
Afraid to repent
I am delaying the inevitable
I am the salt in the wound
That messed with your head
I am the already doomed
Who won’t go to bed
I am the coal consumed
To dispose of the dead
I am delaying the inevitable
And I don’t know why I’m clinging on
So hard that my fingers are raw and bleeding
And I don’t know how I’m keeping on
Going when my life signs are no longer reading
But I’m desperate to ruin the rest of my life
That’s already rubble and dust
So I’m oiling my electrics and recharging my joints
So the short-circuits can run through the rust
I will keep going long after I’m dead
I will keep coming back after the memories are gone from my head
So visit grave and you’ll hear my laugh
‘Cause under the dirt I’m alive
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
I am the words on a tomb
Escaping my end
I am a crack in the room
That I won’t leave again
I’m a mistake in the womb
Afraid to repent
I am delaying the inevitable
I am the salt in the wound
That messed with your head
I am the already doomed
Who won’t go to bed
I am the coal consumed
To dispose of the dead
I am delaying the inevitable
And I don’t know why I’m clinging on
So hard that my fingers are raw and bleeding
And I don’t know how I’m keeping on
Going when my life signs are no longer reading
But I’m desperate to ruin the rest of my life
That’s already rubble and dust
So I’m oiling my electrics and recharging my joints
So the short-circuits can run through the rust
I will keep going long after I’m dead
I will keep coming back after the memories are gone from my head
So visit grave and you’ll hear my laugh
‘Cause under the dirt I’m alive
Request permission to use this poem