Through the burning heart of the sun
Till my thighs lose their tenderness
I shall scurry
Through wet ripe whirpools
Tills bones pick at the bellowing darkness
I shall speak such words
Till the air turns sour

In the depths of bottled oceans
Beneath the tides of scuttling waves where I find seagulls none
Where fish stride the torrential current
Reside in patience as they turret
Only to find themselves in the shelter of midnight
Oh so gay, without a reason to prise elation tonight

The woe was overpowering,
the mournful silence blaring.
Going round in circles in the labyrinth of sufferin'.
Thinking about a way out was no sin.
Unswerving and swift was the way out.
My existence was a doubt.
Starved for the last breath,
so I planned myself a death.

I never used to be that kid that collected anything
No rocks, no pennies,
not even souvenirs
Some even collected diaries
I tried so hard to form a habit of collecting something
So that I could look back to my childhood quirks and think
about the things that made me a kid

I never used to be that kid that collected anything
But I've grown to know that that was a lie
As memory came back, my past caught onto me
Memories started to become clearer, to my demise
Nothing compared to the weight that home carried
Not even my school bag
Turns out, I've always been the kid that collected something
That very thing turned out to be trauma

feels like you're floating at the universe
counting stars to prove your passion at first
all to know is to be like the light year;
hasty on safety!