Don’t you dare pull me
from the wreckage of my life
when I lose my high
and fall from the sky.
Don’t even put out the flames,
I want people to see them
from miles away.
I want the explosion to shake
a thousand cities
and wake the children
from their nightmares of monsters
to a reality that drove millions
to suicide.

I want the debris of my thoughts to scatter
and shatter windows nearby.
And when it's all said and done
I want the land to be scared forever
and cursed with my madness.
I want kids daring each other
to walk up to the spot
where I fell from sanity and tore up the field
they now fear.

Don't mourn me
for I will not be gone,
I'll be hiding behind the flames laughing
at all the different parts of me
killed by the impact
of whatever drug or drink
has rotted out my mind
to the point of brainless bliss.

So don't you dare pull me
from the wreckage of my life
when I lose my high
and fall from the sky,
because I want to enjoy being charred
of every brain cell
and every agonizing thought,
until I'm finally crushed
by the settling debris.