Three in the afternoon and everything is fuzzy You feel the familiar prickling under your skin and welcome it with open arms But you can’t feel your arms This vessel isn’t your body But at the same time it is You’re watching yourself lay there hopelessly while you pray and scream And cry Oh, God, please don’t let me die.
But you aren’t dead But are you even alive? A bittersweet medium where nothing is real and your chest is on fire You live in the flames, you feel yourself escape the trap of gravity And you are floating The bed you lay on is no longer touching you You are in the air, weightless, but only for a few moments before You crash down to earth and farther And farther down more Falling into endless Painless Void.
Am I alone? Am I real? Words ramble off the tongues of a homely face But the words got mixed up in Google translate Foreign words ringing in your ears and you can’t tell if If you are really experiencing everything you are Or if you’re just playing make believe with yourself.