this disease has rotted my brain,
tore out my flesh,
paralysed my muscles.
it's made my body corpse
and i'm trapped in this coffin,
running out of oxygen,
waiting for my heart to stop beating,
but i think i've already died.

you keep looking at me like i'm someone else,
but i'll pretend its me you're looking at,
or that i'm the person you want me to be,
it hurts too much to shut my eyes.

i am trying to get you out of my skin
by pouring you into these pages
but now the ink is in my blood
and i'm poisoned forever.

i knew the moment you messaged me,
that my heart was on a noose,
and with every message you sent,
the closer i got to the edge.
i don't mind my lungs bleeding,
if they're bleeding for you.

i would give you the world,
but it is not mine to give,
and you don’t want it.

how could somebody's eyes,
hold so many seasons.

if i give you my heart,
please don’t squeeze too tight.
it’s still healing from the bruises,
the last one left behind.