Displace
Misplace
Replace
Me.
With another.
Or perhaps something entirely different.
Don't you get tired of yourself?
The scabs on my knees and elbows crack at the feeling of despair.
They bleed out red and green thread, love and envy for the undead.
This is just an escape,
Another rusting coping mechanism thrown out to the pile.
Don't you ever get tired of yourself?
The routinical sequences living inside my head would agree,
She's exhausted
She's tired of me.