this is my introduction to something i never wanted to make up
something that needs makeup
to hide all the rust it built up
in the winds of an apocalyptic sky
see, there i go again, with the same jargon, the same death-comes-for-all
i’m so sick of my own talk
i’m so thirsty for new words that don’t sound like mine
for words that don’t find ****** rhymes
for voices that don’t herald the end of days
because my eyes don’t see what’s really real
they’re seeing only what is metaphorical
what is above is not a stalagtite sky
and what is between my toes isn’t the smell of rot
and my flesh is not actually decaying
the way i feel my soul has been
see, i started out trying not to be me
to conjure something that changes me
but this identity comes down like a deadweight
tied around my straining neck
screaming in my ears, words
words in my head, it’s all too much
it’s all too real
get out
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
this is my introduction to something i never wanted to make up
something that needs makeup
to hide all the rust it built up
in the winds of an apocalyptic sky
see, there i go again, with the same jargon, the same death-comes-for-all
i’m so sick of my own talk
i’m so thirsty for new words that don’t sound like mine
for words that don’t find ****** rhymes
for voices that don’t herald the end of days
because my eyes don’t see what’s really real
they’re seeing only what is metaphorical
what is above is not a stalagtite sky
and what is between my toes isn’t the smell of rot
and my flesh is not actually decaying
the way i feel my soul has been
see, i started out trying not to be me
to conjure something that changes me
but this identity comes down like a deadweight
tied around my straining neck
screaming in my ears, words
words in my head, it’s all too much
it’s all too real
get out
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