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Birdy To Be Free May 2015
Tears can't stop flowing
letting my eyes float above reality


it's not real
but still you're standing there
smiling
lovely
at my missery
I can see you ther STANDING
YOU'RE THERE. STANDING
It's not real.... hehehe...
it's not real...
"But my dearest darling"
it's not real...
Halucinations aren't fun
EgoFeeder May 2013
I can't stand this fragile state of mind
A blinding vision of how life is supposed to be
Seeing nothing but what's between the lines
Stuttering twitches from a peripheral fantasy
Rising every morning with a new friend to find
Death exists in sleep and dwells in lifes' design

We're walking in our own shoes with someone elses eyes
Mirrors gaze back with a hysterical laugh from reailty
A weakening sight that the proud could never realize
Or the smirking girls who get off on their honesty
We're all hung up on something that helps us play this game
An overwhleming emotion that paints our visions frame

Tainting the meaning of individuality through a fronted scene
Re-shaped compositions built from our iconic halucinations
Living behind a hollow imagery with a profound fixation
Of a subjective self portrait on an illuminated petistel
A last hope for some sort of unconditional comfort refill
These words live in place of who I once had been
Close your eyes,
my beauty, oh my
***** little demon,
my succubus,
my muse,
me silly reason for,
silly being.
Feel my heart.
It wont stop beating.
Faster and faster,
slothily increasing,
it wants to burst, explode,
and I say, let it be so,
I feel the blood pour out unevenly,
the circulation failing,
as I smile greedily,
The **** of death coming from
deep inside of me,
spilling from my intestines and out onto
the kitchen ceiling,
where I am stuck
where my mind breathes,
where these halucinations that we call
our reality,
these lies we tell ourselves,
to sleep just a little,
bit more comfortably,
the hate we have ourselves,
of our worldly greed,
that we deny and then,
**** hungrily,
the shame in our hearts,
as we think about society,
and what they want from us,
and how we bow to,
artifical ceilings and devices,
I look down from above,
upside down or
in fact, right side up,
die my little heart die,
burst, burst!
Feel the ecstasy and do not reverse,
I say to myself,
as no one is listening,
and why should they?
I'm just  a death kid,
versing.

— The End —