My job
kills people.
Like a bee
that has stung.
One day I
will die.
And what?
Lock the door, and never ever look at my face.
The torment of seeing you, seeing me is insane.
But what if I loved them, the things you hate?
Like sneaking beer from my parents,
and pretending to feel great.
What if I, in your eyes,
was a ship without a captain?

I think I am
a
ship
without
a captain.

lost.