The cracks, you slipped through.  How did that feel?  It was easy.  Did you have a  choice?   Years and years of wandering through Hell.  That point in time separates what you are from the good ol' days.

Feels OK sometimes, letting the time go by;  with the right amount of toxins, wishing you didn't have to feel anything at all.

I swear I didn't mean to die.  But there's a fine line between wanting to and not caring.  Those little moments creep up on you.

We're so small.  The sensations are something else...  the sensations are much stronger.  Like cancer.