I'm sick
I'm illness
I'm incurable

I'm the vile thing inside your mind that crawls out one ear and in the other
I'm your filthy little fantasy that comes running after you with a knife
I'm bloodthirsty butterflies you naively tried to catch in your "innocence"

I'm sick
I'm dark
I'm twisted

I'm the current under the still water calm dragging you down with me
I'm ash after the fire that clings to your clothes and sticks inside your lungs
I'm your reflection in the mirror of the parts you don't want to see magnified

I'm sick
I'm poison
I'm the broken
                    pieces of souls, collected