I am weak, I am sick
so hungry that
I can even eat my skin
my thirst
is burning my heart
as I rust and
bleed in the pit
drinking my blood black
and drowning in
an ocean of sin
being carried to the depths
of dark and more
where I am not
who I was anymore
only bones and flesh
monster without a master
I killed myself
and buried myself after
only to find me wandering
the corners of the mist
in deep, silence and wondering
if dark can speak through the hollow
echoing the voices of his
luring me out in the open
across doors hidden and broken
colours exploding in themselves
melding in a winter dream awoken
from a deep slumber
my years are only a number
of how long I have been
but not what I mean
and what i have seen
is more than I ever could be
the rage in my heart poisons
my eyes and my lies
inhaling numb tales and potions
portion of me not ready to die
believing seasons can linger
longer than the winter
before they wither
i hear them whisper
of the ones lost and taken
of the wise and mistaken
of the ones forsaken
born into this world
where chains set you free
and dreams slit your throat
i have more scars than me
you don't see through the smoke
you've kept me in
I can even eat my sin
i want to leave, i am sick