in transit i lay still
the windows bend and ceilings mock the seas
faces move and their lips seem to stall

progress moves as egos laugh
and i still live in this crevice of a home
and of course the most terrifying things aren't real
but alas my vision's blocked by projections of demons under my bed

help me redirect my will
shadows are not scared of pills
i know now that words can ****
rip the cords out of my throat
i'm sick of sounding like a joke
hope i'm silenced, hope i choke

in transit i lay still—
sharp skin and syringes pierce my eyes
i never was one to put up a fight

progress moves as voices amass
and i could not care less for this ******* called home
and of course they say that only time can heal
but i, well i could have been dead by now

last time i felt sharp was when it cut my wrists
last time i lived was when i jumped ship
thought i knew better than to let stones break my bones,
but i guess i'm just dumb for leaving my limbs exposed
if i stayed here,
for a day or two,
do you think maybe then these knives could get through?
pray to whatever's in the sky for the courage to die
dear god, why do i even try