Abnormally healing mummified bumps
That turn into great bleeding red humps
Or the silent large type of losing
Inside the fake idea of the choosing
Still, perhaps just a small splotch or two
That gets noticed by nobody but you
There are an infinite amount of
Differently sized shapes and depths
That any form of wound can get to
Just because mine go in one direction
Doesn't change how far or deep
Somebody else's has ever gone
Just because mine stay upwardsly confined
Doesn't mean I'm losing far too much time
I don't know what I'd rather
But it the end it doesn't really matter
For even if I have large bumps,
Or pieces of missing flesh,
Or simply small splotches,
No matter what,
They still could've been cut differently
They're never good enough for me.
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 10:40 PM UTC
Abnormally healing mummified bumps
That turn into great bleeding red humps
Or the silent large type of losing
Inside the fake idea of the choosing
Still, perhaps just a small splotch or two
That gets noticed by nobody but you
There are an infinite amount of
Differently sized shapes and depths
That any form of wound can get to
Just because mine go in one direction
Doesn't change how far or deep
Somebody else's has ever gone
Just because mine stay upwardsly confined
Doesn't mean I'm losing far too much time
I don't know what I'd rather
But it the end it doesn't really matter
For even if I have large bumps,
Or pieces of missing flesh,
Or simply small splotches,
No matter what,
They still could've been cut differently
They're never good enough for me.
