I go where ever the wind blows, I keep running to where no one knows.

Everything is in chaos when I become part of the world, I have to find a way out because my logic is always being burned and curled,

sometimes when my head feels unwound I shred my skin then my mind feels unbound.
No one really stays around for long so Im trying to get used to life without sound until the day I'm gone.

There is no beast inside my cage only an animal incarcerated in rage,
like a demon from an endless age,
I learned to conjure myself from every dark place I know, like a story with an endless page. I live my life for myself and accept every experience until the end of my days.

Coagulated blood dried out from the sun, footprints pressed into the mud from a night on the run, chased and ravaged, pressed against a tree with emotions gutted.

Mutilated and dying, I'm laying under falling stars, saturated skies and underlying scars, every conversation with you feels like being run over by a highway full of cars.

Blood screaming from a cautourised wound travels farther than your ability to listen to reason, wide eyed, your pasteurized white eyes seem cold but searing like the flesh of a steaming heathen.

Necrosis sets in on the heaping pile of me drudged upon the roots of my personification, watch the black blood slipping through the dirt like molasses as it climbs over your teeth and grips the lips before it passes, blood loss is creating a hallucination.

Watch as I become hollow from your cannibalistic lifestyle. Your desperation, human flesh you defiled, mindless separation, our family's bodies stuffed in a corner and piled, you became a Wendigo, a wicked transmorgification.