In my head,
then it is gone,
no way for it to re spawn.
I want to recreate this life,
"edit" things out with a knife,
cut out the snakes in my veins,
but I just do it in vain,
I try to hold them in my mouth,
but everything just goes south.
The more I stab, mutilate to "edit",
I merely eliminate every bit of credit,
as I try to rectify,
I only manage to petrify.
So I must learn to walk with my head up high,
let the bumps pass on by,
like a bird soaring home,
I cannot stop,
I must roam.
When life tosses me down,
and lets the snakes slither out,
I cannot just sit and pout,
I must walk on without a doubt.