I tied my noose to twenty-seven balloons I'd filled with my own hopes and hot air.
I let them carry me until I was no longer there because I forgot what it meant to be real and gave up on ever being healed.

I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling.
Stained with water and the paint peeling in strips and fragments like the edges of my resistance. If life is all a dream well I can't help but wonder who's dreaming.

Knock on my head and hear the reverb hollow.
It echoes throughout like my thundering heart beat but where's my brain beat? Ignorance is bliss but no one said bliss tastes sweet.

The water in my lungs is deep enough to drown but still shallow enough to hear every note I've got left in my xylophone ribs. I guess this is what you meant when you asked me to forgive.

But I ******* all my anger into twenty-seven little strings and blew kisses to the wind. It's goodbye that's gonna take me home again. So if you see me floating know that I am real but I couldn't bring myself to heal.