Why am I breathing in your smoke? Coughing till I choke. Why am I always hearing you talk? I live here. But it’s not living cause there’s no escaping. Your noise, your voice.
Sometimes I force my cramped up body to crawl. Only in music I can make this possible. Understand my tears, they are streaming from the top of my head boiling, steaming, streaming. I wish I could make you feel the hurt in my screaming!
Why am I forced to feel your **** when you smoke? My body turning ****** till I choke. Hours of horror. What day is it? What day was this sensitive guy going to die? I read he’ll die this Friday. Finally all his pain, horror and torture floating away. I will wave his ship goodbye.
But can I stay behind as my friends are keeping me around the finish line? It’s over but we’re having another bag of crisps and maybe even another little glass of wine. Why am I still breathing? Forcing this body that is never leaving...