massive headache, splitting my skull and poking my diseased brain;
I can't keep
living this way, facing no where, and kissing dust. I can't keep believing in pagan fairytales and digging countless graves for every piece of me that dies, every single day, and so pitifully
  I need relief and I don't know what it'll take. 10 years of this,  10 years of
  how and why. the floors are squeaky clean now, and the doors are locked with rusty chains. I open my heart to you, praying for refuge